But it was given to Robert Preston, 68, who died March 21 of cancer. Preston, inseparably associated with The Music Man, really stretched himself in his last three movies for the screen. In Blake Edwards' S. When someone had the impertinence to call the doctor a shyster, Preston's character stood upon his dignity and said the correct name for his calling was a quack.
He didn't play for the obvious laugh, but gave a rounded and often touching performance - one of the few portraits of homosexuals in movies that gay activists have welcomed. And, finally, in The Last Starfighterhe bade farewell in the role of the galactic recruiter who signs up a video-game whiz kid for a real round of Space Invaders. Preston did it with a con man's charm that echoed his most famous outing in movies - Harold Hill in The Music Man.
Christopher Reeve, who is currently playing a severely compromised journalist in Street Smart and who will be reporting in again as Clark Kent this summer in Superman IV: "I'm really not conscious of my reputation or image as an actor. I just take the best parts that come my way. Doing Superman every couple of years gives me the financial security to take risks like Street Smart.
Harrison Ford does the same thing. He has Indiana Jones as his financial base. I don't wake up in the morning and ask myself how I'm going to twist my image around or find ways to prove my versatility. Sam Raimi, who perpetrated the schlock horror movie The Evil Dead shortly after dropping out of Michigan State University and who directed the forthcoming The Evil Dead II: "We make horror pictures because they can be made for the least money and have the best chance of success.
One exhibitor told us, 'You've got to keep the blood running down the screen. I still live at home with my parents in Detroit. The most literate film around at the moment is the Ritz Five's 84 Charing Cross Road, based on the actual year exchange of letters between an American writer Anne Bancroft and a London bookseller Anthony Hopkins who were destined never to meet.
David Jones, the director who did Betrayal and who clearly relishes a challenge, has accomplished a remarkably effective translation of the play to the screen.
Hugh screenwriter Hugh Whitemore and I thought not so much in terms of opening it out so much as regards the secondary theme of the movie, which is New York and London and what is quaintly and amusingly and sometimes touchingly different about the two cultures.
Although Hopkins and Bancroft didn't physically work together this time, 84 Charing Cross Road is a screen reunion for them. Incidentally, if you are a fan of the small bits of business and the tiny suggestive movements and expressions that go into a superlative performance, don't miss the dinner table scenes between Hopkins and his wife.
Her cooking is unspeakable, but he eats the food, chewing slowly with a quizzical look. At last, he says, "Very? There's nothing super about the movies' Superman in "Street Smart. As he put it, "I'm interested to see if the audience will accept me as a weasel in the film. I don't think I begin to redeem myself until the last 10 minutes of it. It feels a little unreal talking to Christopher Reeve.
He is so tall, so handsome and so perfectly articulate that you begin to wonder if what is before you in this West Hollywood hotel room might not be a lifelike hologram representation beamed in from the planet Krypton.
A perfect cinema icon as Superman, he has sought in movie after movie to prove he can do other things. In "Somewhere in Time," "Monsignor," ''Deathtrap," and "The Bostonians," he has tried with varying degrees of success to burst out of that red-caped, body-length blue straitjacket. Nevertheless, the public seems to prefer him as the Man of Steel. And it's certainly true that the young magazine-writer-on-the-make he plays is no Clark Kent.
Consider: as Jonathan Fisher, he fabricates an article about a Times Square pimp, begins palling around with a real pimp whom he meets as a result of the article and allows himself to be intimidated by the pimp into testifying in his behalf, getting him off the hook on a homicide charge. There isn't much to admire about the young journalist until at last he turns on his tormentor and takes his revenge. He's sort of lost, just getting along, but he wants to be famous.
When he gets his opportunity, he takes it. In a sense, they're both victims. The reporter is a victim of the magazine he works for and his own ambition. The pimp is a victim of the streets. The movie is almost saying that journalism is pimping. I think that's valid. Next, Reeve will turn to directing. I'm used to collaborating.
I'm used to thinking of them as the key element. Reeve also hopes to produce. It's a hefty goal but, as the year-old actor explained, "I've now put nearly 20 years into the business. That's where he grew up. The product of a broken marriage, he felt himself pulled between two homes. It felt like an extended family to me because I was sort of adopted by many of the actors in the company. I needed a secure place to grow up, and the theater provided it.
Although Reeve went through Cornell University to satisfy his parents as an English major and a Music Theory minor he plays the pianohe still had his eye on acting. He went on to Juilliard - and that, he said, was "a wonderful experience. To be suddenly turned loose in New York and have a whole city to explore - well, I was in clover.
Once out of Juilliard, however, he was just another actor, kicking around New York and hustling for parts. After a couple of false starts he was summoned to London by Alexander and Ilya Salkind to audition for ''Superman. When they offered him the role, he had some misgivings, but "the gambler in me needed to take the dare that 'Superman' would work as a film in its own right.
Besides, that cast - Brando, Hackman, and all those great English actors. I certainly thought they could make a legitimate movie out of it. There was another, more personal, challenge in playing the part, Reeve recalled. Well, I worked out two characterizations. I decided Superman would represent the side of me that would be everything in life I'd like to be.
And as Clark Kent I'd take all my insecurities and exaggerate them for comic effect. I believe the character plays you, rather than the other way around. Through the reality of you, the character says what he wants to say.
That's why the great performers seem to be the characters they play. You don't know where one ends and the other begins. Superman said what he wanted to say, and audiences listened - and watched - enthralled as America's favorite comic-book hero came to life. They loved him in "Superman. Puffing visibly with pride, he said, "I'm probably the first actor to play a comic-book character who's maintained a legitimate career.
But it hasn't been easy. None of his movies outside the Superman series has been a hit. In fact, after declaring he was done with it all, he entered into negotiation with Cannon Films and Warner Brothers on "Superman IV" and made part of his price the production of "Street Smart. I wanted to get the fun back into it, but in the right way. I'm used to playing Supie by now.
Among the newcomers are Jon Cryer as Lex Luthor's punk nephew and Mariel Hemingway as the daughter of the editor and competitor for Superman's affections. If they made it into a movie, it would be called "The Crowded Summer. Consider, for example, the weekend of August eight-count'em-eight movies are scheduled to open, more than even the hardiest movie buff will want or be able to see.
That's quantity. Quality is another story. Summer is traditionally the time for mindless crowd-pleasers that reach for the lowest common denominator, and this year is not an exception to this unhappy rule. Still, there's some interesting hot-weather stuff out there, most of it having to do with casting. Over the coming weeks we'll see Robert DeNiro as Al Capone, Madonna as a jailbird, Steve Martin as a latter-day Cyrano de Bergerac, Jack Nicholson as the devil, Bob Dylan as a reclusive rock star hey, all actors have to stretch once in a whileand the Fat Boys as hospital orderlies a scary thought.
One thing that's not surprising about the summer of '87 is the number of sequels slated to open. That's not all. The summer will also bring us Stanley Kubrick's first film since "The Shining," Robert Benton's first since "Places in the Heart," the 50th anniversary rerelease of "Snow White" and the moment you've all been waiting for: the movie version of "Garbage Pail Kids.
Without further ado but with the warning that the only guaranteed thing about the following schedule is that it will be altered, added to, and subtracted from before the summer is overhere they are, the movies of summer:.
Based on the old TV show, and clearly a must-see. Directed by Monty Python's Terry Jones. Like Rob Reiner's movie, it's about a group of kids who discover a corpse and have to decide what to do with it. The ladies play three single women in a New England town who suddenly find themselves endowed with mystical powers.
Nicholson is a mysterious - and devilish - stranger. One surprising twist: Arnie's character is nicknamed "Dutch. How could the producers afford it? Well, the biggest name they hired for the cast was Tom Bosley. Martin wrote the script. One prediction: Every review of this movie will compare it to "Platoon. My vote is no, but he's gone ahead and done it anyway, this time spoofing ''Star Wars"-type space epics.
Unlike "The Untouchables," this one's a comedy. Or is it Gannon and Friday? Together they stumble on a murder, and it's off to the races.
Kim Basinger plays a small-time manicurist who finds herself caught up in a web of blackmail and double crosses; Jeff Bridges plays her good-for-nothing husband. Sounds like good chemistry. This time, Supe tries to save the world from nuclear annihilation. Doesn't sound like high concept, but don't forget that "My Beautiful Laundrette" had a similar setting and theme. You'd never know it by his recent output, which includes "Summer Rental" and now this unpromising-looking comedy about vacation education.
Starring Mark Harmon and Kirstie Alley. Casting of the Big Bopper unavailable at press time. Four original Dylan songs. The thing I'm curious about is Ms. Funicello's hair color - will it be as black as ever? Still, stranger pairings have been made. The story here involves two cops stalking a jail-bird, in a thriller directed by John Badham. Nope - an automated policeman on patrol in Detroit. Peter Weller and Nancy Allen star. Opening date uncertain.
The plot? Widow Ellen Brody Loraine Gary goes to the Caribbean to try to erase the memory of a certain large fish. Guess what happens. Probably not as bad as it sounds, considering that the director is Joel Schumacher "St. The boys play orderlies charged with taking care of Ralph Bellamy, as a bedridden millionnaire. Anthony Geary he's not Tony anymoreas Ralph's uncle, wants to kill him.
Imagine the hilarious consequences. Let's hope it's the last. Directed by Nicholas Roeg. Starring Oliver Reed and Amanda Donohue. We've cast people because they're marvelous actors - then we've murdered them.
Based on the Jack Higgins novel. Thomas Howell. Didn't we get enough of this theme in ''Class"? Still, A-M's usually a good judge of material, so this might be worth a look.
Good advance word. James Belushi is a principal trying to keep things rolling in an inner-city high school. Special effects. Spare me. The bad news is that 'tis the season of the summer retread. These are the movie equivalents of summer reruns.
And these small-screen lawmen who have come to the big screen are only a handful of the enforcers in a summer season where good guys wear badges - and pack pistols. For those in favor of gun control, don't despair. Must be the season of the witch. Romance didn't wither with the spring flowers; it continues to blossom in movies like The Big Easy and Who's That Girl?
This is also the case in Disney's summer reissue of Snow White; why else would she whistle while she worked? The most influential trend this summer might be that Hollywood is not making movies for kids as much as it is making movies about having them: Adventures in Babysitting and She's Having a Baby are two such accounts of the baby boomerang. But for those landlocked souls who think that summer movies mean sand, sea, sun and sin, then your options are Back to the Beach, Jaws the Revenge, and North Shore, a surf odyssey to Hawaii's Banzai Pipeline.
Pass the sunblock, please. In Dragnet, Sgt. Opens June His mission: to stop heroin traffic. His miss: Maryam D'Abo, the heroine who stops traffic. Opens July Opens Aug. Opened Wednesday. Now married, Frankie and Annette go Back to the Beach, not to party or to play blanket bingo but to relate to their teenage kids.
Opens July 31 or Aug. Opened May 8. In Care Bears 3, the community of do-good creatures is slated for another adventure that was still top secret at press time. An artist craving a quiet place to paint inherits a haunted stone manor in House 2: The Second Story.
Arye Gross stars. Though the Caribbean's warm waters have never been host to sharks, the terror continues. Prepare your pen guards! The four-eyed brace-faces of Tri Lambda are back blonde-hunting in Nerds in Paradise, in which they do to Florida what the frat rats would like to do to them. Teen Wolf Too reveals the further adventures of the basketball-playing high school werewolf in a sequel that does not star Michael J.
Opens August Bourbon Streeter Dennis Quaid, an extroverted detective, joins forces with Ellen Barkin, an introverted lawyer, in The Big Easy, where they realize as far as crimebusting and love go, two heads are better than one. In Texas, pretty manicurist Nadine Kim Basinger gets clipped when she is accused of murdering a shutterbug who took suggestive photographs of her.
In trying to clear herself, she falls back in love and cahoots with her husband Jeff Bridges. Directed by Robert "Places in the Heart" Benton. Written and directed by James Toback, who also wrote The Gambler. Directed by Monty Pythoner Terry Jones. Steve Martin is a contemporary superschnoz Cyrano in director Fred Schepisi's Roxanne, co-starring Daryl Hannah as the eponymous object of his affections.
She may be 50 years old this year, but Snow White is ageless. Re-issue of the classic Disney animation. Looking for deadbeats, they instead find dead bodies, millions and love. As a psychologist treating police officers for burnout, recently widowed Martin Sheen tries not to get burned by Santeria worshippers in John Schlesinger's The Believers, co-starring Helen Shaver as a nonbeliever who quickly gets converted.
Opens Wednesday. Barbara Carrera and Kelly Preston star as the pretty prey in Burnin' Love, a spoof of the Salem witch hunts guaranteed by its tongue-in-cheek filmmakers to be percent historically inaccurate. Opening in August.
After commiserating how hard it is to be a single woman, these three meet the man of their nightmares. Comically warped Innerspace shows how test pilot Dennis Quaid gets miniaturized and winds up inside nerdy supermarket clerk Martin Short. Opens July 1. Co-starring Carl Weathers. In the future, when the government controls network TV, Running Man is a most popular show where prisoners get released and sent on life-or-death missions.
Schwarzenegger stars as a reluctant contestant in this movie based on a novel by Richard Bachman pseudonym of Stephen King. Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty are an odd couple of showbiz losers who get involved in cloak and dagger intrigue in the Casbah of Elaine May's Ishtar.
Co-starring Isabelle Adjani, a blue-eyed camel and a sated vulture. Opened May Rock-and-roller Ritchie Valens sings the scorching La Bamba and in this musical biopic he dedicates the ballad "Oh Donna" to the girl he loves. Stars Lou Diamond Phillips as Valens.
In the screwball Who's That Girl? In Benji: The Hunted, the mutt is back - and he saves four cougar cubs from hunters who would make muffs out of them.
Starring John Lithgow and Melinda Dillon. Orb - The best Of Island 3. Boxmedia 1. Fin De Siecle 8. Pushead artwork. Roughly 4inx4in Square Embroidered patch. Full Color on Black. Blue and white on Black. Black and silver ink on white. Red and White on Black. Yellow and Blue on Black. Blues and Whites on Black. Kirtan: Turiya Sings, issued by Impulse!
This rare mix -- unheard Massgrave Of Emotions - Various - Grrr. (Cassette) by Ravi Coltrane until he was producing Translinear Light -- presents Alice's prayerful rendition of nine traditional Hindu chants called "bhajans," offered with only her Wurlitzer organ in support. From the opening moments of "Jagadishwar," Coltrane's dignified worship songs seemingly transcend time. They abundantly reflect an earlier period in her own life when she was still in Detroit playing organ in church for gospel choirs and congregations during the early s.
That said, they also wed the millennia-old Hindu prayers to the 20th century African American Church and the blues Rev. Thomas A. Dorsey used in reframing gospel music. A striking example here is "Krishna Krishna"; it drones along a skeletal chord progression as Coltrane's instrumental pulse underscores her subdued, vulnerable, almost unbearably tender chant and suggests a country blues.
Coltrane's jazz training can't resist slipping in unusual chord voicings amid the Wurlitzer's droning growl -- check out "Hara Siva," where she pairs fleeting elliptical ghost traces of chords under an open-throated, deep blue groan that simultaneously reflects yearning and transcendence. Closer "Prandhana" offers seemingly syncopated organ play as chords melt together, transforming them into new utterances. The Wurlitzer hums, rife with airy pedal action as her voice wavers around the resultant overtones.
Kirtan: Turiya Sings is more subdued than the original perhaps they should have been packaged togetherbut because of the power in Coltrane's singing, it is also deeper emotionally. Rather than a recording designed to project music for a congregation to respond to collectively, it resonates with the personal primacy of private devotional prayer.
In sum, it doesn't displace or replace the original, but adds immeasurably to its meaning and dimension. Having lived many musical lives—church organist, bebop pianist, cosmic jazz visionary, intrepid experimental composer—she was by then serving as spiritual director for her interfaith Vedantic Center in Southern California, seeking new modes of transcendence.
It would be a couple of years before Coltrane opened her Sai Anantam Ashram in Agoura Hills, but already she was deep into a personal journey in consciousness. She had begun a transfiguration following the death of her husband John inand her auspicious meeting, not long after, with guru and counterculture icon Swami Satchidananda. But a sense of spiritual awe suffused her music from her debut as bandleader onward. Turiya Sings was the first album she made alone.
Luxuriating in every prayerful syllable, naming deities like Krishna and Ramachandra, Coltrane made a small number of the tapes available to her students and Vedantic Center visitors. Yet the power of this music is elemental. The tone of the original Turiya Sings is as certain and spectral as anything associated with the Coltrane name.
On a more technical level, according to a label representative, the original Massgrave Of Emotions - Various - Grrr. (Cassette) Sings remains formally unreleased because the Coltrane family has never found its master synthesizer recordings. During a call-and-response kirtan performance, the leader sings devotionals, typically with a harmonium pump organ, and the audience joins in collectively.
Despite the surge of interest in kirtan in the U. It puts you in the room, into electric air. Her subtle flourishes of extra notes make the compositions bloom and groove anew. Her mystic organ lines seem attuned to the drone of the universe. Many of these Sanskrit chants are about non-attachment, channeling the ancient wisdom found in such sacred texts as the Bhagavad Gita, the Vedas, and the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. This was a woman who had a decade prior conducted her own piece orchestra, distilling all of that singular majesty into a solitary voice for the purposes of collective rapture.
Listening to the Kirtan: Turiya Sings recordings feels less like discovering a hissy cassette lost in time than what it must have been like to experience Coltrane leading the songs at one of her legendary Sunday services. Each composition steadily ascends with a charge of aliveness. The cover of the album depicts a devout portrait of Coltrane surrounded by deep unclouded blue.
But to really understand Kirtan: Turiya Sings is to answer its call with your voice. The singing of praise in Sanskrit has been practiced for centuries, along with the closely related bhajan. By the s, American interest in eastern philosophies and religions reached an all-time high, and its influence affected the cultural landscape through literature, art and music.
The adoption of Vedic practices by people of all races became widespread. Alice Coltrane had the kind of transcendent talent that cast even the lesser-known works in her catalog as rewarding gems. Inhaving fully embraced eastern philosophy, Coltrane founded a Vedantic ashram in Southern California.
Up until then a longstanding artist for the legendary jazz label Impulse! But she was all the while recording and independently releasing music on tape in her ashram. In the 80s and 90s she made four albums, the first called Turiya Sings — the title a reference to her monastic name, Swamini Turiyasangitananda, and the fact that this was the first album featuring her vocals.
Sometime arounda cassette rip of this recording made its way around the internet after wading in obscurity for decades, reaching myriad bloggers and music nerds like yours truly. Now officially released digitally for the first time, the album may find an even larger audience. She clutched him. Further chat ensued, then Aidan turned to come back. Great stuff. Everyone getting on well. However, because Aidan had come out with my friends twice, I was obliged to meet Leon and Dana and I was not looking forward to being judged and found wanting.
Then, a few days later, the Real Men had a Halloween party, where they the Real Men dressed up as themselves. Not that it was that surprising to see each other, but anyway. I launched myself at him and he grabbed me, his arms around my back, our legs tangled together, and a jolt of want leaped from me.
He felt it, too, because his eyes changed, instantly becoming serious. Had I wanted more? Was I curious about his restraint? Is he gay? One of those True Love Waits gobshites? Feathery Stroker in disguise? Like to come? Aidan lived on West Eighty-Fifth. How had that happened? So, in theory, I could pull one or two sexual tricks out of the box. W hen he let us into his apartment, I stood in the hall, listening.
How out? I took in the neat crisp bed linen, the candles dotted about, the meadow-fresh smell. Then his expression changed to something far more intense and my stomach plunged. I moved around his room, picking things up and putting them down. The candles on his nightstand were Candy Grrrl ones. I looked up. He slid his hand along my neck, under my hairline, sending electric shivers down my back, brought his face to mine, and kissed me. I watched my hand pop the button on his jeans. My hand was shaking slightly.
I looked up at him. He was watching me, his expression beseeching, and slowly I found myself lowering the zip, the details of his erection visible against the straining denim. All my training went by the board. We picked up speed and I wanted more. I was having little conversations with myself in my head: That was amazing. That was incredible. I felt like I knew him. I felt like he loved me. We went to sleep spooned together, his arm tight around my stomach, my hand resting on his hip.
He sat on the foot of the bed, pulling on his socks, his face bent downward, his back to me, and suddenly I was wide-awake. Well, fuck that. I deserved better. You still coming? Looked like I should have done the toe-touching, bum-waggling thing after all. He looked surprised. The end of me and Aidan. Neither did I. With knees that felt watery with dread, I got in.
On the drive Rachel talked about things—stuff that had nothing to do with anything, but was diverting all the same. Gained weight. Hit their hairdresser. It kept me calm. Then we crossed the bridge into Manhattan. Then we were in my neighborhood, the so-called Mid-Village. But with Manhattan rents being what they were, me and Aidan were unimaginably grateful to live there.
Oh, thank God. Only to discover that the person was Jacqui. Not that there were many rooms to check. There was the living room with a cramped kitchen annex carved out of it, a half bath i. Rachel and Jacqui pretended nothing strange was happening, then Jacqui smiled and I stared at her in shock. I found a dentist willing to do it. Lionel was so grateful he gave me the gift of two gold incisors. I looked at her bleakly. The crux of their differences was Luke: if pressed, Jacqui would admit that she thought Luke was wasted on Rachel, with her fondness for early nights.
However, Rachel once let slip that the only vice she had left was sex, which instantly made me imagine her and Luke up to all sorts of kinky A n y b o dy O u t T h e r e?
Are you over Buzz yet? He would argue that pink was green just for the hell of it, tried to make Jacqui have a threesome with a prostitute, and drove a red Porsche— so pitifully naff—and made the guy at the garage clean the tires with a toothbrush.
Jacqui never got a chance to answer me. All kinds of people had come out of the woodwork. I just heard. I could write the script. I caught the word denial.
Then Jacqui and Rachel made me switch on my computer and retrieve all my e-mails: there were eighty-three. You need serious help. I mean serious! Rachel was very strong-willed, but at that moment, so was I. I sensed her start to buckle, so I seized my advantage. At the door, Rachel insisted on delivering a speech. Thank you. It went straight to voice mail, but even so, it was such a relief to hear his voice that my stomach turned to water.
I love you. Hundreds and hundreds of little e-mails, yes, to say who was bringing dinner home and what time would we meet and that sort of thing, but never like this. They forgot the salad, like always, but gave us an extra Dr Pepper. Was it light enough? The pain was enough to make me queasy and momentarily it distracted me from the sudden wave of feeling that enveloped me.
Cautiously, I picked it up and sniffed it and enough of his smell still lingered to make me dizzy. I buried my face in it and the intensity of his presence and absence made me choke.
I closed my eyes and the pills pulled me into an undertow of sleep, but in that halfway state which precedes unconsciousness, one of those horrible ragged chinks opened up and I caught a glimpse of the enormity of what had happened.
I rose through layers of consciousness, pausing at each one until I was ready to move on—like a scuba-diving ascent: preventing the emotional bends of a sudden shocking burst through the surface of sleep—so that I was quite peaceful by the time I opened my eyes.
But from Aidan, nada. Have you ever tried to have a shower without getting one arm wet? I had another of those nasty chinks of clarity: I was way out of my depth here, on every level. Although you smelled even nicer ten minutes ago. Time to get dressed. My already low heart dipped a little lower and Dogly watched sympathetically. It was the fecking kookiness, hanger after hanger of it, plus rack after rack of colorful shoes and bags—and, worst of all, the hats.
I was facing into my thirty-third birthday, far too old for this. What I needed was a promotion, because the farther up the feeding scale you went, the more you were allowed to wear suits. Silly hat, I hear you ask—oh, but of course: a black beret at an angle. All in all, a little subdued, but I should get away with it today. I would really like to hear from you. Your girl, Anna He always got a kick out of my work uniform. The irony was that he tried to subvert his conservative suits with funky ties and socks—Warhol A n y b o dy O u t T h e r e?
Until thennin the i n vesti vest i gate everyt e verything, hing, but make no commitment commitme nts. I felt helpless, then angry. I clicked on Hot Scopes! Resist the temptation to resuscitate dying plans, relationships, or passions. Ah, here! Out on the street, I found I was shaking. And had New York always been this loud? How noisy was it going to be uptown? I began walking toward the subway, then stopped as I considered what it would be like down there.
Steps up and down everywhere; my knee was aching, far worse than it had done in Dublin. But how else was I going to get to work? I shrank from getting into a cab. Riveted by indecision, trapped whichever way I jumped, I considered my options. Go back to the apartment and spend the day there on my own?
That was the least palatable. After standing on the sidewalk and getting Massgrave Of Emotions - Various - Grrr. (Cassette) looks from passersby for an indeterminate time, I watched myself hail a cab and, in a dreamlike state, get in. Could I really be doing this? Suddenly, with a bang to my chest that nearly stopped my heart, I saw Aidan. He was sitting on a bus that had paused at an intersection. All the city noise retreated, leaving only a muzzy, staticky buzzing, and as I clawed for cash and reached for the door handle, the bus surged forward.
In a panic, I twisted around and stared out the back window. It must have been someone who looked like him. Really like him. But what if it was him? What if this had been my one chance to see him? And whatcha do to your face?
I struggled to the front and popped out like a pinball. Tentatively she extended her hand, like she was thinking of touching me compassionately, then thought better of it. I was glad. Your hair has grown. Ready to go, yeah? Right, about Lauryn. She burned with a manic intensity and had very poppy eyes, like a Latter-day Saint.
Or maybe she just had an overactive thyroid. Despite that, Lauryn got loads of coverage. Likewise with men: regardless of her bulgy-eyed boniness, and knobbly elbows and lumpy knees, she often got taken away for weekends to the islands by lookers. Figure that one. As we say around here. Because we have, Massgrave Of Emotions - Various - Grrr. (Cassette), a lot happening right now. She meant for me to let her know if she needed to sack me.
When will it be out of the cast? Wearing a silver boiler suit, tucked into orange, vinyl knee boots. Today her hair was blue. To match her glittery blue lips.
Ooh, your hair is pretty. I slid a glance at Lauryn; she was far away enough not to hear. I took it out and banged it down on the spot it always stood on. And they said I was in denial?
She took a car service to work every single day—not the subway, not even a cab, but an air-conditioned Lincoln Town Car with bottled water and a polite driver. She was sweet, obliging, and quite intelligent, and did everything perfectly.
When she did it. We picked up the slack a lot. Her skin was fantastic and she never wore makeup, which would have been a sacking offense for me and Teenie, but not for her. Today she wore wide-cut pants in greige cashmere and a dinky little fawn sweater, also in cashmere. She shopped at the three Bs— Bergdorf, Barneys, and Bendel, the golden triangle—and get this: sometimes her dad bought her clothes. He said it was pedo stuff, nearly like incest.
He hates everyone, except Henk, and sometimes I think he hates him, too. Franklin bankrolls all of this primping, but occasionally Henk stays away nights and goes downtown to play with his rentboy chums. Mind you, everyone wore stuff from Tiffany. You had to. Brooke always got everything just right. She was the most appropriate-aware person I had ever met. She also knew exactly what to wear in every eventuality and it was already in her wardrobe. In triplicate. She inhabited a world with strong rules and she had the money to obey them.
I often wondered what it must be like to be her. Not like Lauryn. A ll day long, everyone was looking at me—but never directly. When I met girls from other brands in the corridors or the washrooms, they gave me slanting, sidelong glances, and as soon as I left I knew they were whispering about me. Like it was all my fault. Or contagious. Luckily, because this was New York, no one really gave a shite. There was nothing more disconcerting than Ariella in her Capo di Tutti Capi mode.
Before all this happened, I got more coverage than any of your other publicists and I intend that that will be the case again. But I might not be the best judge right now. So how ya doing? Got a joke for you. He was my boss. Lauryn reported to him. Get a haircut. Go see someone at Perry K. When I returned with the bad news Lauryn behaved as if I was lying. Eye Eye Captain—I want your thoughts on the campaign by weekend. Unlike my home e-mail, my work stuff had been opened and answered.
I scrolled back through them, doing a crash course in catch-up. Candy Grrrl with fool ideas of his own. In bold black type—meaning it was new and unread— was an e-mail from Aidan. Wanted to catch you before I left. See you tonight. Nothing to report, just wanted to tell you that I love you and will love you forever and ever, no matter what happens. A xxxxxxxx I read it again.
What did it mean? He was coming to see me tonight? Then I noticed the date: the sixteenth of February, and today was the twentieth of April. I was a dope and I could only blame the drugs. When I told people at work, they freaked. But this is way too soon. It was forbidden—indeed, up until now, it had been thought technically impossible—to move directly from a declaration of exclusivity to meeting his family.
It was most unorthodox. Rihanna with an eye patch — must have been from my AMA Awards post. Shaiya nude mode — I did a review of Shaiya, but no nude mode! Beautiful faces of celebs — from my Oscars review I think, but still weird to search for that phrase. Does Robert Pattinson snore? Hey Rob, call me! Lady Gaga nail polish — she has her own brand? I never knew! Robert Pattinson sex talk — again, Rob call me! Sheri nude — you perv! No nude pics of me! Jason on The Bachelor Sucks — I so agree!
As I posted recently, I would give a recap of my thoughts on this vampire series so far. Here is my experience with it, I hope you enjoy! Dead Until Darkthe first book in the series was really quite good. I liked it anyways. The main character Sookie Stackhouse is great but also kind of annoys me. She is a telepathic barmaid who is quite nice, though every human thinks she is a bit crazy. Also, much of the book seemed like I was reading another version of Twilight with more sex and Southern slang.
I think this book was written first though. Maybe Stephanie Meyer read it and that is how she dreamt up Twilight. Regardless though, it is a good book. I really liked Vampire Bill. I read this book in a night. I started reading the second book, Living Dead in Dallas after a paranormal investigation. So, I only got in about an hour or so of reading. I finished the rest of it the following day. It was good but not really as good as the first. The most memorable thing that happens in this is the escape from being held captive at the Fellowship of the Sun headquarters there.
After this book, I decided to read the back covers of the rest of the books that came in the set. I regretted doing so. Well, I found out Bill cheats on Massgrave Of Emotions - Various - Grrr. (Cassette) Then her brother becomes a shape-shifter? Then she ends up with a shape-shifter? What is going on? Oh, right for that I guess I can just re-read Breaking Dawn again.
Yeah when I bought the set I thought they were all there but it is missing one that is out now and one that comes out in May. Damn my OCD and getting sucked into this series! Club Deadthe next book was actually pretty good. Club Dead is a vampire and supernatural beings bar of course. She also ends up becoming close friends with a Were as in werewolf. Bill is vampire-napped and being held prisoner in Mississippi and Sookie of course has to go to his rescue.
Big drama with all of that, but it works out well. Such vampire drama! It is like a vampire soap opera. I love it! Dead to the Worldnext book in the series Bill leaves for Peru oh and Sookie and him are not dating, she never forgave him for cheating on her Then Sookie finds Eric running along a country road by her house with just jeans on and no memory.
She ends up taking care of him and hiding him out at her house for a fee of course. She ends up really falling for this new sensitive and helpless Eric. They have quite a good time together, oh and the sex was really good too. Witches are also in this book that is attacking the other supernatural beings and they end up having a big fight and call it the Witch War. It was sad when Eric became his regular self again though.
Her brother is found he was missing thanks to Sookie and now he might be a Were-panther. I hate how she ends these books. Dead As A Doornailthe next book… Shape-shifters and Werewolves and panthers and whatever else are in danger in this one. She really should give him and Bill more credit. Massgrave Of Emotions - Various - Grrr.
(Cassette) Deadthe next book Sookie is still alone. Though she ends up dating Quinn, a Were-Tiger. I want to see her with Eric or even Bill! So frustrating! This book was slow to amount to much of anything. Quinn is nice and Eric saves the day with some other vampire that works for the Queen of Louisiana. The soap opera continues! All Together Dead the seventh book, and last book in my boxed set.
Is about the big vampire summit for the southern vampires. It was actually my 2nd favorite book I read from the series so far first being the first book. Sookie is dating Quinn, well sorta still. Then sometime while at the summit she has to exchange blood with him again third time now and now they are bound and more in tune with one another. Then the Fellowship of the Sun set off all these bombs in the hotel during the day to try to kill the vampires and the humans in the building they were staying in.
Sookie and the other telepath Barry figure out it is happening right before it happens and manages to get most of the humans out and many of the vampires, but it is daytime!
So, some die. Quinn even kills Andre the bad vampire that is close to the Queen of Louisiana. Sookie saves Eric and Pam too, and she finds Bill in the rubble. From Dead to Worsethe eighth book was quite boring in my opinion. Yes, I bought it this series is addicting okay? It focused way too much on recapping stuff that already happened. It also featured an immense amount of time explaining what Sookie does during daily tasks and mundane activities.
Amelia, her friend now from New Orleans is staying with her. She is a witch. I completely agree with that move, especially since Eric is so hot for her, oh and Bill too. Speaking of Eric, his memories about their time together came flooding back to him when he was sitting on her bed. I just want to shake Sookie and have them end up together, but I guess that would make the books cut short and the author wants money. Oh, she meets her great-grandfather who is a fairy prince.
There is also a takeover of the Louisiana area by the Las Vegas vampires. They end up okay though, pretty much. Overall, I think the books are pretty good. They are all a fun read though. The world Charlaine Harris creates with this series is a great escape.
My biggest complaint about the series is that the author spends too much time re-stating things the reader already knows. I found this to be very annoying. A once-over on things that happened before in books is normal, but to keep bringing it up throughout the book gets old. It is like having to listen to someone say something to you ten times before they move on to something else only to bring it back up again in a few minutes.
The characters are all quite colorful and creative. I especially like the vampire Bubba. Pretty funny. I wonder if that character will be on True Blood. I also really like the Sookie and Eric relationship.
Eric is just a fun character to begin with. He is a very old vampire, so also very powerful. He was a Viking! So he is blonde, blue eyes, great body, great at oh everything. But somewhere through the years he forgot how to express himself properly.
It makes a fun combo with Sookie. I really hope they end up together. The next book, Dead and Gone comes out May 5, Click here to read the first chapter from the book.
From the synopsis it looks like the Weres and shape-shifters will be coming out of the closet too. There will also maybe be a war going on. I hope she gets some action with Eric, they do share that intense blood bond now and he is being really quite good for a vampire with a lot of power too. Why do I not like Bill anymore? Well, he is quite a tool and he did more to hurt Sookie than just cheat on her.
Are you wearing green today? I actually just got back from the hospital. I'd write more about the holiday, but I'm just too tired right now.
Siren Song - Dave Brubeck Quartet* / Brubeck* - Smith* - Near-Myth (CD, Album), Concerto Nr. 3 C-Dur - Albinoni*, Roberto Michelucci, Maria Teresa Garatti, I Musici - 12 Concerti,, I Can Eat Monsters Too - Various - Logic Trance 4 (CD, Album), Time Waits For No One, Salto De Obera - Claudio Marciello - De Pie (CD, Album), Recoll - An (4) - Orvid (CD), Blazin (Dillinja Mix) - Various - Fast Lane (CD), Introduction - Bullet For My Valentine - The Poison - Live At Brixton (DVD), Jalousie (Jalousy) - Connie Francis - 19 Original Albums & Bonus Tracks (CD, Album), Abenddämmerung - Unknown Artist - Kalinka (Cassette), Piano Solo Improvisation Part 2 - Mori-Shige* - Fukashigi (CD, Album), Chant Sans Paroles, En La Mineur