Life Streams
Headline from nypost.com: “Trash connoisseur John Waters says bad taste is dead.” In the accompanying article, Mara Siegler explains: “But when everything’s vulgar, how do you keep that act going?” The director/writer of fare such as Hairspray (1988), Cry-Baby (1990), Pink Flamingos (1972) and Mondo Trasho (1969) said: “… Now the kind of stuff I had in my early movies is normal. That’s why my movies are now playing on television, which I never thought would happen. Ever.” John Waters is mainstream! It really shouldn’t be surprising, given that even porn has been for a while now, not to mention illegal immigration.
As I lay in bed early this morning, a memory from either 1962 or ’63 visited. I was an eighth grader at St. Mary Mother of Jesus. It was report card day. I was a less than mediocre student. In fact, I could have easily been left back in the third or seventh grade. As I scanned the card, I saw that I’d received a 60 in reading, surely an error, as it was one of the few subjects in which I fared well, and I’d received an 87 on the most recent test. I was devastated. I felt as if the one thing I was good at had been taken from me. I approached St. Thomas quietly, timidly, pointed to red mark and said: “Sister, I…” She barked a curt, nasty retort that I don’t recall exactly, along the lines of it being what I deserved. I coiled in frustration, tears flying from my eyes. Mario Ricchiuti, seated in the front row, later said he’d thought I’d gone berserk. Sister Thomas was an ace at verbal humiliation, unlike our seventh grade teacher St. Grace, whose blows I endured more than once. I felt sorry for my parents, who had such a dumb son, although they did not love me any less for it. I let it go, perhaps in cowardice or simply overcome by futility. I remembered Mario had said, when the class secretary was recording the grades of the test in question, which we announced aloud, that it sounded as if I’d said 57. Maybe I considered the situation my own fault for not having followed up. I’m glad I didn’t. It was a great life lesson, although, of course, I didn’t know it at the time.
My thanks to Sam, who after having enjoyed Present and Past, sought out another of my novels and chose Exchanges, since his wife worked in finance and since, as a Mets fan, he was intrigued the protagonist is obsessed with the orange and blue. My thanks also to the old-timer who bought a paperback on the Atkins diet, and to The Quiet Man, who returned for two more DVDS; and to the gentleman who selected an art pictorial in Russian; and to Wolf, who purchased three true crime epics by Ann Rule, The Black Box by Michael Connelly, and an Annie Ross CD. I did not recognize her name, so I googled it. She was part of Lambert, Hendricks and Ross, whose music is often played by Michael Bourne on his Singers Unlimited program, which runs on listener-supported WBGO, 88.3 FM out of Newark, on Sunday from ten AM to two PM. Ross was born in England to Scottish vaudevillians and emigrated to the USA at four in 1934. Her parents returned to Europe and she was taken in by her aunt, singer/actress Ella Logan. At seven she sang in Our Gang Follies of 1938. She played Judy Garland’s character’s sister in Presenting Lily Mars (1943). In all she appeared in 18 films. At 14 she wrote Let’s Fly, which won a songwriting contest and was recorded by the legendary Johnny Mercer and The Pied Pipers. She dropped out of school after the 10th grade and returned to England. In 1952 she wrote lyrics to saxophonist Wardell Gray’s Twisted, which Joni Mitchell eventually covered. I remember how surprised I was when I discovered Mitchell hadn’t written it. Ross recorded seven albums with Lambert, Hendricks & Ross between 1957 and 1962. She left the group and in 1964 opened a nightclub in London, Annie’s Room, which played host to jazz greats. She also recorded many solo albums, and did musical theater on both sides of the pond. Her personal life was challenging. In 1950 she had a child out of wedlock that would be raised by the father’s brother and wife. She became addicted to heroin and had an affair with Lenny Bruce, an addict himself. In the mid ‘70’s she declared bankruptcy and lost her home. She became an American citizen in 2001. She received the ASCAP Jazz Wall of Fame award (2009), the National Endowment for the Arts Jazz Masters’ Award (2010), and the MAC Award for Lifetime Achievement (2011). There is a documentary about her life, No One but Me (2012). She passed away in 2020, four days short of her 90th birthday. Here’s an old clip of her doing the delightful Twisted, accompanied by the great Count Basie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6OYSDYuvoA
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