Thursday, August 27, 2009
Saint Jerome Quote of the Day: Fat and the donut
I just accidentally took a photo of my bare fat belly, navel and all. Saint Jerome looked at the pic and said, "You know what this looks like? One of those Tim Horton Maple Dip donuts." Ummm, thanks.
Orange Crush
One of my earliest crushes was on a dancer with The Joffrey Ballet in the early 1970s. I was about 8 years old and my crush was on Russell Sultzbach. Russell was shorty and stocky, muscular with a great ass which even my 8-year old self recognized But his most wonderful, recognizable feature besides his great smile and cute dimples, was his hair (including the hair on his body, yummy). It was red — a glorious, intense red. Not orange or auburn or mahoghanny but the color of flame.
He starred in many ballets but the best was Gerald Arpino's Sacred Grove on Mount Tamalpais where his costume consisted of a glorified dance belt. Boy! was I embarrassed and thrilled at the same time. My little young heart palpitated hard enough to bust my ribcage.
In those days, the company still rehearsed at the school so there was a lot of interaction between the students and the dancers of the company. That season I was in two ballets — Leonide Massine's Pulcinella and his Le Beau Danube, where I was one of the three young girls. Russell was the Hussar who woos, loses and then regains the heroine, my oldest sister. At one point of the ballet, the family is sitting on the stage and the Hussar bows to us. Well, in one performance, Russell took my hand and kissed it! To hear my mom tell it, there were hearts emanating out of my eyes when that happened. One night, before a performance, I told him I loved his dimples and he asked me which set of cheeks. I almost died. That might have been the night he kissed my hand.
He signed a book to "My favorite 9-year old" for my birthday (John Willis Dance World 1973) and wrote a note to me while I was at ballet camp that summer. I could NOT wait to grow up. I quit ballet, though, long before I did.
Russell Sultzbach is still to this day, the only red-head I've had a crush on. (sigh) He ruined gingers for me I guess.
He starred in many ballets but the best was Gerald Arpino's Sacred Grove on Mount Tamalpais where his costume consisted of a glorified dance belt. Boy! was I embarrassed and thrilled at the same time. My little young heart palpitated hard enough to bust my ribcage.
In those days, the company still rehearsed at the school so there was a lot of interaction between the students and the dancers of the company. That season I was in two ballets — Leonide Massine's Pulcinella and his Le Beau Danube, where I was one of the three young girls. Russell was the Hussar who woos, loses and then regains the heroine, my oldest sister. At one point of the ballet, the family is sitting on the stage and the Hussar bows to us. Well, in one performance, Russell took my hand and kissed it! To hear my mom tell it, there were hearts emanating out of my eyes when that happened. One night, before a performance, I told him I loved his dimples and he asked me which set of cheeks. I almost died. That might have been the night he kissed my hand.
He signed a book to "My favorite 9-year old" for my birthday (John Willis Dance World 1973) and wrote a note to me while I was at ballet camp that summer. I could NOT wait to grow up. I quit ballet, though, long before I did.
Russell Sultzbach is still to this day, the only red-head I've had a crush on. (sigh) He ruined gingers for me I guess.
Russell in Sacred Grove (After Dark was the best magazine!)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Saint Jerome Quote of the Day: There are two kinds of novels my friend . . .
To paraphrase Tuco in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, there are two kinds of books I read, classics and junk. If I read one James Baldwin or Wilkie Collins novel, I have to follow it up with three times the amount of junk (though Collins, with his sensation novels and mysteries, WAS junk his day). My junk consists of true crime (the older the better), pulps like Erle Stanley Gardner and Ellery Queen (pre-1960s for both), historical romances (or hysterical — take your pick. The latter adjective is a good substitute for the former) and the contemporary romances by the same authors. I also read a lot of stuff that falls into the gray zone like Winston Graham's Poldark novels, Georgette Heyer regencies and Lolah Burford historical novels. I usually avoid chick lit and Oprah choices.
Well, I tend to leave my current reading materials around and Saint Jerome frequently takes a peek and is frequently amazed at how explicit some of the junk I read is (it's always mildly amusing to me, especially the hysterical romances, which I read for the costume descriptions).
So one day, he comes out of the bathroom with Beaumarchais's Figaro trilogy in one hand and some bodice ripper in the other and says to me, "You know, you only read two types of books — literature and cliterature."
Well, I tend to leave my current reading materials around and Saint Jerome frequently takes a peek and is frequently amazed at how explicit some of the junk I read is (it's always mildly amusing to me, especially the hysterical romances, which I read for the costume descriptions).
So one day, he comes out of the bathroom with Beaumarchais's Figaro trilogy in one hand and some bodice ripper in the other and says to me, "You know, you only read two types of books — literature and cliterature."
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Ghost Town, NY
With the exception of Saint Jerome and his twin sister, his whole family, generations in fact, were born and raised in Niagara Falls, NY (the twins were born in Buffalo). Anyway . . .
Driving back to Junie's house, we passed through downtown Niagara Falls. Once a bustling metropolis, it is now a ghost town. Actually it's worse than a ghost town — it's a ghost slum. Driving down Main Street, it was kind of disheartening to see 98% of the storefronts boarded up. The only buildings that didn't seem to be boarded up were the new, poured concrete library (that looks like a prison) and the brand, spanking new Police Headquarters.
Maybe things will get better with the casino there now that you need a passport to go to Canada and the casinos there.
Driving back to Junie's house, we passed through downtown Niagara Falls. Once a bustling metropolis, it is now a ghost town. Actually it's worse than a ghost town — it's a ghost slum. Driving down Main Street, it was kind of disheartening to see 98% of the storefronts boarded up. The only buildings that didn't seem to be boarded up were the new, poured concrete library (that looks like a prison) and the brand, spanking new Police Headquarters.
Maybe things will get better with the casino there now that you need a passport to go to Canada and the casinos there.
Slowly I turn . . .
While in Buffalo, Saint Jerome and I went to the Falls. We drove in the car with Junie, his 84 year old sister, while Jill went with Jacqueline and Michael. We got to Goat Island, parked for $10 and went down to the Horse Shoe Falls. Niagara Falls is truly magnificent. A lot of wind, a lot of spray, extremely refreshing in the hot, humid weather. I actually like the American side better than the Canadian. You are much closer and it's still very wild in an uncultivated way near the Bridal Veil Fall. It's like you are there a thousand years ago except with more tourists. We didn't go down to dip our toes near the Bridal Veil Fall though. Junie's and Jacqueline's hair deflated in the spray and anyway, this was just a pit stop on the way to the CASINO! Yes, I went to a casino for the first time in my life.
The Seneca Niagara Casino is a neon-coated, glitzy oasis in the middle of desert that is downtown Niagara Falls, NY. It was wonderfully air-conditioned and smokey as hell (NY State smoking laws need not apply, coughcoughcough).
First we ate. The Three Sisters Cafe had good food, good service and was decently priced. We savored the eating portion of our trip (I had roast beef on kimmelweck with au jus and horseradish plus fries — it was divine) and entered The Casino. Oh my lord! What sensory overload! Bright blinking lights from thousands of machines, loud music, bells, whistles — you name it it was there assaulting us from all sides.
Saint Jerome's twin sister Jill was the expert in our group having worked in the casinos in Tahoe. She showed us the ropes. I played $5, won up to $23 on the 5¢ machine then cashed out. But the bug had bitten. I played another $15 which I lost on the same machine so I pretty much came out even. Saint Jerome also played $5 on a 5¢ machine, also won $23, also cashed out but remained imuned to the lure of the lights and the promise of a possible chance to win. The people around us though . . . They were glued to the machines like their life's blood pumped through them and back into their veins.
Most of them were elderly, a lot obese and infirm. Wheelchairs, walkers, canes abounded. I even saw an ancient woman with a seeing eye dog. A lot of smokers glued to their seat, cigarettes burning down to ash. There was one old woman in particular, sitting close to us at the 5¢ machine who was particularly fascinating to Saint Jerome. She had a big helmet of iron gray hair, took drags incessantly from the cigarette in her left hand while pressing the "re-spin" button incessantly with her right.
The thing that disappointed me, though, was the fact that all of these slot machines are now computerize and no longer take coins and no longer have the levers so they are no longer "one-armed bandits". The romance was gone for me. At least you don't run the risk of developing elbow trouble or spraining your bicep muscle.
I can see how people become addicted to gambling though. The slot machines hypnotize you and each time you press the re-spin button you're thinking, "Maybe I'll win big this time!" while the whole while you're losing another 5¢ or more.
and losing . . .
The Seneca Niagara Casino is a neon-coated, glitzy oasis in the middle of desert that is downtown Niagara Falls, NY. It was wonderfully air-conditioned and smokey as hell (NY State smoking laws need not apply, coughcoughcough).
First we ate. The Three Sisters Cafe had good food, good service and was decently priced. We savored the eating portion of our trip (I had roast beef on kimmelweck with au jus and horseradish plus fries — it was divine) and entered The Casino. Oh my lord! What sensory overload! Bright blinking lights from thousands of machines, loud music, bells, whistles — you name it it was there assaulting us from all sides.
Saint Jerome's twin sister Jill was the expert in our group having worked in the casinos in Tahoe. She showed us the ropes. I played $5, won up to $23 on the 5¢ machine then cashed out. But the bug had bitten. I played another $15 which I lost on the same machine so I pretty much came out even. Saint Jerome also played $5 on a 5¢ machine, also won $23, also cashed out but remained imuned to the lure of the lights and the promise of a possible chance to win. The people around us though . . . They were glued to the machines like their life's blood pumped through them and back into their veins.
Most of them were elderly, a lot obese and infirm. Wheelchairs, walkers, canes abounded. I even saw an ancient woman with a seeing eye dog. A lot of smokers glued to their seat, cigarettes burning down to ash. There was one old woman in particular, sitting close to us at the 5¢ machine who was particularly fascinating to Saint Jerome. She had a big helmet of iron gray hair, took drags incessantly from the cigarette in her left hand while pressing the "re-spin" button incessantly with her right.
The thing that disappointed me, though, was the fact that all of these slot machines are now computerize and no longer take coins and no longer have the levers so they are no longer "one-armed bandits". The romance was gone for me. At least you don't run the risk of developing elbow trouble or spraining your bicep muscle.
I can see how people become addicted to gambling though. The slot machines hypnotize you and each time you press the re-spin button you're thinking, "Maybe I'll win big this time!" while the whole while you're losing another 5¢ or more.
Winning!
and losing . . .
Friday, August 21, 2009
"You were born with two." by guest blogger, Saint Jerome
Hi there
Just to show that Sarah has her finger on the cup, I found this article today which she has insisted I post :)
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/aug/22/rigby-peller-bra-lingerie
Enjoy!
Saint Jerome †
Just to show that Sarah has her finger on the cup, I found this article today which she has insisted I post :)
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/aug/22/rigby-peller-bra-lingerie
Enjoy!
Saint Jerome †
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