Saturday, December 6, 2008

Beverly Garland Dies in Her Hollywood Hills Home



It's with sadness that I report the death of one of Hollywood's most prolific-- as well as one of my favorite-- actresses, Miss Beverly Garland. Although extremely youthful and active until very recently, Miss Garland succumbed to an undisclosed illness last evening (Friday, Dec. 5) at her elegant Hollywood Hills contemporary, in a tony enclave of the Mullholland Drive area of Los Angeles. Perhaps best known for her 1960's television role as Fred MacMurray's wife on My Three Son's, Garland's acting career began in the 1950's in "B" horror movies. In these films Garland was valued as much for her screaming skills as she was for her sophisticated good-looks. Garland's career also encompassed big-budget feature films including 1968's Pretty Poison co-starring Tuesday Weld and Anthony Perkins and the 1970's disaster genre film, Airport, '75 . Television proved to be Garland's most rewarding stage as she effortlessly glided through innumerable guest starring roles as well as co-starring as a regular on television series such as The Scarecrow and Mrs. King and Remington Steele. Here's a link to an insider's remembrance of Beverly, where the writer shares linking a new Diagnosis Murder episode in which she was appearing with a 25 year old Mannix episode in which she also appeared: http://leegoldberg.typepad.com/a_writers_life/2008/12/beverly-garland-rip.html A personal favorite guest starring role of mine was on The Mary Tyler Moore Show, as Lou Grant's long-lost love interest. Grant finally realizes the gall of Garland's character and dumps an ice cream sundae on her head as he exits their last scene together. Decoy, the late 50's television drama in which she appeared as the character Casey Jones, an undercover female police officer. This was a break-through role for Garland and female actors, as the character she portrayed was the first female police officer on television in the starring role. Garland was a dedicated performer in Peggy Webber McClory's repertory in the California Artists Radio Theatre stable of stars, which often performs in the Beverly Garland Little Theatre on the grounds of her famous Beverly Garland Holiday Inn in North Hollywood. In addition to her acting career Garland was a dedicated member of Actors and Others for Animals, generously using her celebrity on behalf of the animals she loved.
A lavish memorial service and reception was held at the beloved property bearing her name on December 12 and attended by hundreds of family and friends.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Simon Says...


I wish every unwanted dog or cat could be as fortunate as Simon, the little deaf puppy whose story I'm about to share. Sadly the majority of precious creatures do not end up on Doris Day's doorstep, or even in the most modest loving home. Simon's journey to paradise began with the name "Spike". Purchased from a breeder as a pure-bred Boston Terrier by his first owners-- serial puppy buyers-- who eventually discovered that he was deaf and dumped him on their kindly country veterinarian. Kind hearted, well intentioned and known for giving homes to many unwanted animals, the young ladies of the office each wanted to keep little Spike and gave him the opportunity to become a member of their homes. However it is more challenging to train a deaf dog and their full-time jobs made it difficult to devote the countless hours it takes to assist a little guy like Simon to acclimate to a household with other animals. One of the challenges Simon faces is that warning growls and snarls of other dogs are not heard when his puppy exuberance and playfulness surpasses their limit. Unfortunately Spike was not a good fit in the homes of the veterinary technician's and his board in the office proved to be unfair to this puppy with so much energy. Wanting to see him in a good "forever home" one of the veterinary technicians sought the assistance of a fabulous one-women rescue society, Flora's Pet Project. Flora is a woman whose devotion to homeless animals makes me ashamed for not participating to a fraction of the degree that Flora does in her tireless quest to help all animals lucky enough to find their way to her doorstep. Please have a look for yourself if you're interested in adoption and share her link liberally with anyone you may know who has a suitable home for animals: flora@floraspetproject.org . Spike was reluctantly handed over to Flora, hoping that he would soon land in a good home with his forever family. This is where I come in to Spike's life-- for a brief moment. After overhearing an office mate talk about this deaf puppy on the phone, my friend Bill mentioned that he had a friend-- me-- who was a dog lover and had a Boston Terrier puppy. Not only did I have a Boston Terrier, I had the good fortune of having several dance through my life. After Bill called to inform me about the puppy needing a home, I contacted Flora to arrange a meeting. Tug-- our Boston Terrier in residence for the past three years-- did not have the reaction I had hoped for. However we took Spike home for a trial period hoping that eventually the two boys would become loving brothers. That didn't happen and "Spike" was on the move yet again-- to his permanent forever home at my brother Kevin's house. Kevin and his partner Manny had met Spike the day of our initial meeting and fell in love with him immediately. Perhaps secretly hoping that he would somehow end-up under their roof? Now named Simon, he has successfully acclimated to his wonderful new home on six bucolic fenced acres in pristine Bridgewater, Connecticut. After a brief period of adjustment with his new brothers & sisters, Simon is often found asleep curled up with Gidget-- a crazy Pomeranian and longtime favorite doggie of a famous neighbor, actor Richard Widmark, Whoopie-- a domineering, in-charge but lovable dachshund-and-something mix, Miguel, a wonderfully kind-hearted and patient Portuguese breed fellow and last but not least, my favorite cat of all-time, Abner Kravetz, the largest orange cat I've ever seen. Manny and Kevin are completely and thoroughly devoted to their animal children and have the assistance of a wonderful housekeeper who is on scene when their busy schedules keep them from home. The final twist to Simon's long journey to his forever home? The kindly vet's office from where Simon originated his trip happens to be my family's long-time, trusted and beloved veterinarian Gerry Schect in Hopewell Junction, New York. A recent visit there with Tug and a brief mention of my brother's new deaf puppy became an almost unbelievable coincidence to myself and the clinic staff, with tearful acknowledgements that Simon indeed not only arrived in his forever home, but the perfect forever home.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Carefree or Very Bel Air?

























Wherever you are, slip into a pool with a highball and make the day yours-- and yours alone. Float along and envelop yourself in an elegant turquoise world of warm chlorination as these songs waft over you. Say so-long to summer and add the final coat of bronze to that shimmering you. Here are my essential end-of-summer songs to evoke fabulous places like Bel Air, Carefree, Carmel or the exquisite destination of your very own choosing--circa 1969:




















Can't Get Used To Losing You: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUeaqHHq2II


































What Are You Doing The Rest Of Your Life: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CcsoF1G3yAQ













Tuesday, July 29, 2008

My Favorite Manequin: Miss Anne Francis




Beginning a tribute to such a prolific contributor to the entertainment industry by referencing my favorite episode of The Twilight Zone is, believe me, nothing less than the ultimate testimonial by an adoring fan. Anne Francis is without a doubt one of the hardest working, most talented and stunningly gorgeous actresses to have graced the silver screen as well as the television set. My favorite guest star in my favorite Twilight Zone was-- of course-- Anne Francis as the escaped department store mannequin turned live human being for a day. Refusing to return to her post for another stiff stretch as a stationery model, Anne evoked emotions of sadness for her character, wishing she could escape and live among us forever!
Starring in her own television series Honey West, Anne played a private detective in the title role of the same name for two seasons in 1965 and 1966. Her co-star was a pet ocelot named Bruce-- how avant garde! Science fiction fans cherish Anne's performance in the 1956 cult classic, Forbidden Planet. However, her stellar talent, chic appearance and years of experience were no match when it came to the editing of 1968's Funny Girl with Barbra Streisand. Along with several other co-stars, Francis was robbed of her top-flight performance when most of her scenes ended up on the cutting room floor. Streisand's narcissistic influence reduced Francis' role to practically nothing in order to increase focus on her own. Very poor form in the business by Streisand and the director did nothing to really endear Barbra to the public as one might imagine an entertainer of her caliber would dictate. Popular? Of course. Much loved and adored like a Doris Day or Ella Fitzgerald, no way. Streisand set the diva tone from the start with her poor behavior by pulling the Helen Lawson act during and after Funny Girl. Considered a slap in the face to the more seasoned performers in the film-- who would probably not have accepted a role had they known it would be so diminished in the end product. Although Funny Girl turned out to be a disappointing speed bump, the experience did nothing to impede Francis from continuing her flawless work in Hollywood for decades. Mostly in top-billed television guest starring roles, from westerns to sophisticated and glamorous characters, her gorgeous image was a popular fixture on the top prime-time programs through the 1960's, 70's, 80's 90's until her latest IMDB entry in 2004.
One of the most generous stars of her stature, Francis maintains a beautiful website for fans: http://www.annefrancis.net/ Anne writes a monthly newsletter in which she shares current events in her life, spiritual observations and even some of the difficult details of her recent bout with a pretty scary health issue. However, Anne is doing fabulously and appears to have triumphed over daunting odds and is looking forward to moving on and perhaps working on a project in the future. Her extremely youthful appearance-- she really hasn't changed at all-- must be a testament to her shining inner energy and generous spirit. Miss Francis is, above all her Hollywood accomplishments, a survivor. Take a moment to visit Anne's site and wish her good luck in her continued journey to health. After all, wouldn't it be wonderful to see that signature beauty mark once again grace any screen in a new, wonderful T.V. or movie project? You bet your ocelot!

Monday, July 28, 2008

Nuts & Guns, Guns & Nuts! Bang! Bang! You're Crazy!


Please forgive my insensitivity toward those lacking average mental health, however I've long disagreed with the ACLU folks. Individuals who cannot take care of themselves and are a threat to others SHOULD NOT be allowed to circulate among the general population. Psychotropic miracle cures only work if they're taken regularly and apparently do not work all that well because most patients experience unpleasant side effects even when well regulated in their systems. There was a reason a little state like Connecticut maintained several huge sanitariums-- now no longer in use-- when the population was a fraction of what it is now. Where are these poor folks now??? Many wander the streets, a threat to themselves and the unsuspecting public who more than occasionally is on the receiving end of a brick, rock or gun. Which leads me to the "Guns" element of the title of today's entry. When are we going to learn, as a country, we actually do not have the right to bear arms when we aren't sane or responsible enough to ensure the safety of those who do not wish to participate in the violent, negative energy of being in the presence of killing machines? At the very least, all guns-- that's ALL guns-- shotguns as well as handguns-- should be strictly regulated via regular psychological testing. A national database should be designed to monitor and cross reference police records so that if someone is caught driving under the influence or arrested for some other type of infraction, their gun permit-- and weapon-- will be immediately confiscated. This situation is not going to improve without serious new laws and regulations. Churchgoers shot and killed in Tennessee. School children shot and killed in Amish country. Mentally deficient teens taking rifles to school and shooting at anything that moves. What should be our goal to improve our increasingly violent and mentally ill society? Unfortunately it's going to have to mean more rules to protect the greater good. However it will result in fewer and fewer guns for the gangs, the mentally ill and anyone in between who feels the need to arm themselves just for the hell of it. Let's all pray to Charlton Heston. He more than anyone surely knows by now the extreme disservice he did to humanity as the longtime president of the NRA. He's now face-to-face with the thousands of souls for which he was directly responsible for their early departure from this earth. Mr Heston undoubtedly now knows the tragic errors of his ways. Help us, Mr. Heston. We pray to you-- please help us.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

Tea for 200









One of the most anticipated Litchfield County events of the summer is the fabulous fundraiser, Tea for 200. Benefiting the Susan B. Anthony foundation and the Northwest Connecticut Aids Project, it's been held since its inception at the beautiful garden property of Gael Hammer and Gary Goodwin in Washington Depot. This year's honorary chair was the lovely, talented & fellow Litchfield County resident, Miss Laura Linney. Pictured with me are my pals Gino Damasco (L) and Alan Boardman (Center). Laura Linney is pictured with Gael Hammer (R) and Gary Goodwin (L). Photo credit: Jamison C. Bazinet, The Waterbury American newspaper.

Friday, June 27, 2008

The House In My Head


I was fascinated with Architecture since I could hold a pencil, so the only logical subject for a book report in the 5th grade would have to be about houses. Modern houses. As my fingers walked through the card catalogue of my school's library, the selection on the subject of Architecture was almost non-existent and not very encouraging. Until I read the card with the title The House In My Head. Locating the large book on its shelf wasn't difficult-- it's almost coffee table size. Drawing the book near I was immediately entranced by the cover photo. The view at dusk of the most beautiful home I had ever seen, from across the swimming pool. Floor-to-ceiling glass doors hid little from view. The interior was expertly decorated with lots of reds-- in the upholstery, carpets, etc. with the walls a cool white, perfectly framing the entire setting. Important art on the walls-- little sculpture-- French antiques eclectically co-mingled with new modern pieces here and there. This house was a gallery as well with every decor element thoughtfully and perfectly selected and placed on the stage that was this most stunning home.


As I devoured every word, every stunning Ezra Stoller photo, it became apparent to me that Dorothy Rodgers was many things. Obviously a person of means she was also a person of tremendous taste, organization and standards. Mrs. Rodgers shared the very personal-- for her-- reasons for arriving at the conclusion to leave her cherished home of many years. Rockmeadow had become a charming but needy and temperamental old friend. An estate that was impossible to run without a substantial staff-- a luxury that was becoming increasingly difficult even for the very rich to recruit and retain in the 1960's. Guest quarters were on the third floor-- luggage had to be trudged up several flights of stairs for every overnight visitor. The vast gravel drive required regular raking. The rambling colonial home lacked many modern comforts such as central air conditioning. The opening chapter takes the reader through the intimate, difficult decision process that lead Mrs. Rogers to the bitter-sweet conclusion. Although she would fulfill a lifelong dream of designing and building her own home, it would not be accomplished without sacrificing their dear old family friend, Rockmeadow. Dorothy described the catastrophe, or the straw that broke the camel's back as the dour possibility of not having a couple on the premises for the summer. To those of us who do our own laundry, make our own beds and skim our own swimming pools, this seems like the fear of a thoroughly spoiled individual. She undoubtedly and unabashedly was-- but to Dorothy Rodgers this was tantamount to hauling your laundry to a river and beating it against rocks or lugging barrels of water from a well a few miles back to your house. I must confess to you at this time I had no earthly idea exactly who Mrs. Rodgers or her husband "Dick" were. I was delighted to learn within the first few words of the book that this elegant and sprawling contemporary home wasn't in far-a-way California, but in my own backyard of Fairfield County, Connecticut. However, exactly who the Rodgers' were wasn't of any immediate importance or of any particular interest to me-- but every brushed chrome door knob, every built-in warming tray, every pebble dredged from an Asian river, absolutely everything else was.


After touring countless parcels of property-- ruling out one for its too-steep driveway approach-- many others were eschewed until the ten or so acres of high meadow in the exclusive Greenfield Hill section of Fairfield, Connecticut was selected as the ideal building site for Mrs. Rodgers future perfect home. The new home was to be a weekend and summer place, like all the Rodgers' Connecticut homes had been since the 1930's or 40's. A home for escaping their elegant New York City apartment, a home for their family and I believe most importantly, a home for entertaining the legions of their sophisticated, entertainment industry friends. In case you haven't already figured out what still hadn't dawned on my ten year old mind-- until my mother told me-- the Rodgers were in fact, Mr. and Mrs. Richard Rodgers, as in OKLAHOMA!, Carousel, The King and I, etc., etc. I've since referred to this house as the house The Sound of Music built. Notes detailing decades of ideas were shared in the book. Dorothy-- as I respectfully refer to her-- didn't leave a process out of the equation of design. Maybe an ice maker in the living room, if it doesn't clunk too loudly. A place for card table rounds for dinner parties. Why have a separate library? A wall of books in the living room could suffice. Perhaps a little house at the edge of the croquette lawn for storing equipment. These are not direct quotes but merely remembrances of a book read many, many times. Other ideas to implement included a fabulous pantry with a double-sided serving buffet that could be closed off from view while help set out food, then opened for service. Then closed off again while silent servants whisked away-- out-of-sight--the dirty dishes, platters & tureens to the various dishwashers in the pantry & kitchen. Built-in warming trays to keep all hot dishes the perfect temperature for the perfect buffet service. A greenhouse for cutting flowers in the winter. A place to let fresh cut things "harden". Some sort of beautiful stones to place along the perimeter of the foundation where nothing ever wanted to grow. Perhaps a dishwasher in the pantry as well as the main kitchen? This women was light years ahead of her time. I'm sure if she were still alive she would have definitely participated in the interior decoration education of the masses-- perhaps with her own HGTV program.

To describe the house is a bit of a challenge, however I'll give it my best. Sprawling at over 10,000 square feet on a single level, the appearance was that of an H-shaped layout with a pool in the rear between the bedroom wing and service area of the house. Flat-roofed except for many Mansard-style, slate roof projections which correlated to the size of each room for which it was a "hat". Carefully scaled, by the way, to the point that large pieces of plywood were held up during construction for Mrs. Rodgers and her architect to judge the appropriate ceiling height for each room. The look has been described as Contemporary Regency style, which is certainly accurate-- one might throw in Regency/International. The largest room(s) in the house where the Living Room/Dining Room/Library which also had a screened dining "porch" and defined library area flanking the "thrust" part of the living room. The plan brilliantly utilizes space and the overall effort is one of the first and best examples of multi-use areas in residential architecture. Sunny with an abundance of glass walls and skylights, the Living Room-- although of cavernous proportions-- was warm and intimate. A fireplace surrounded by raised panels that hid a television that could be pulled out and swiveled on its turntable. A carefully planned service wing with state-of-the-art kitchen was restaurant-size for its time, although now probably average compared to today's McMansions. Thermador warming drawers could keep an entire dinner for several guests the perfect temperature until a late train arrived from New York. Servants quarters were accessed through this part of the house as was the greenhouse. The basement is home to New York skyscraper or battleship size mechanical systems. Plumbed with large cast iron pipes painted color-coded so that their functions were instantly apparent to whomever may be servicing an emergency day or night. Schematics were framed behind glass for an electrician's future benefit should he need them. Gauges labeled with engraved plates that noted "Mrs. Rodgers' Bedroom" and "Mr. Rodgers' Bedroom" adorned the equipment. Multiple diesel stand-by generators were always at the ready in case Connecticut Light and Power failed to provide the necessary electricity for even a moment. Station wagon size air conditioning units were unobtrusively placed away from the house behind a rustic stockade fence. The year this building was built-- 1965-- was decades before the small central units were invented that are common now. These "behind-the-scenes" details were not shared in Mrs. Rodgers' book-- visits by me to the house post-Rodgers ownership were like religious pilgrimages that enlightened me to the areas of the house never mentioned or photographed.


To say that I was obsessed with this house & book would be an understatement. I decided the ideal punctuation for my book report would be to have a direct quote from its author. How to obtain her phone number? Place one of the photos in the book with a shot of a phone under a microscope, of course. Although the entire phone number is not legible, fear not-- Richard Rodgers telephone number was not unpublished, but appeared in the local phone book along with everyone else. After several attempts to reach Mrs. Rodgers were unsuccessful, her friendly husband (to whom I had spoken every time) told me to call back on Friday when she would certainly be back "from town". Finally that fateful Friday evening, a maid summoned the elusive Mrs. Dorothy Rodgers to the phone. I identified myself as a 5th grade student who had just completed reading her beautiful book about her beautiful house and was readying to write a thorough book report. After a very brief pause, Mrs. Rodgers told me that everything she had to say about the house was in the book. She then asked scornfully, "How did you call our phone number?" I explained my slightly unorthodox method and, perhaps concerned about a 10 year old stalker, she told me not to call again. Not until my mother received that month's phone bill was I informed who the Rodgers' were. The people I phoned a few towns away via Southern New England Telephone local long distance was the great American composer of many wonderful musicals very familiar to me-- Richard and his wife Dorothy. Since I spoke to Mr. Rodgers several times I comforted myself with the notion that although Mrs. Rodgers was not at all pleased with one of her youngest fans, her husband couldn't have been more pleasant and accommodating. I'm grateful for his patience and kindness. Although it was Dorothy's astute attention to design detail that made this house the showplace it was, it was Mr. Rodgers' financial contribution that made the house possible at all. It was The House In Her Head, but also the house The Sound of Music built.