“The surgery was a success, and I feel not only wonderful but liberated,” she writes in the new memoir, out April 25.
The 67-year-old former Olympic gold medalist claims she came clean so fans will stop asking about her nether regions.
“I am telling you because I believe in candor,” she explains. “So all of you can stop staring. You want to know, so now you know. Which is why this is the first time, and the last time, I will ever speak of it.”
Earlier in the book, Jenner calls the surgery a “complex decision,” due in large part to the health risks associated with the operation.
I actually really like how she said that, and how she explained her decision to address the topic; far more articulate than Radar, which went with, “Bye, bye penis!”
Say what you will about Caitlyn — and you will — but her transgender journey was not for attention. She is a woman now, albeit one whose political views make me sick.
Andrew “Durandy” Golub, the author of The Music Between Us: Concert Ads of Duran Duran, also happens to be sitting on the world's largest Duran Duran archive — so you know the book he created was done so with something more alarming than mere love.
(Image via Durandy Productions)
The hardcover, 107-page book will run you $45 plus shipping, but it's chock-full of rare print ads and posters, including for some items that never wound up happening.
One of my fave Roger Taylor snaps, from Rock Shots (1984)
'80s Roger pinup from Tiger Beat or similar
As an ephemera addict, I couldn't take my eyes off of this, not even while dancing on the sand.
I love sheet like this! Sheet music for one of my fave D2 songs!
Closer Magazine has fascinated me since its inception.
A part of the Bauer empire, which includes checkout check-me-outs like Life & Style and In Touch (the title of which will forever belong to the '70s/'80s gay-porn mag in my mind), Closer is an odd duck — instead of 30something moms, it is targeted to old-timers, focusing on subjects who are mostly dead and buried.
The tagline, “Closer to the Stars You Love,” has always struck me as meaning it's for people who are about to join the great stars of yesteryear gossiping over that great clothesline in the sky.
But it's a solid publication, beautifully done. I just can't imagine how Bauer finds the readership — and more power to them for doing so, as nostalgia is a huge part of my own life. (I am closer and closer to the stars I love each day!)
Now, I'm proud that someone I know — who is alive! — is on the cover: ultimate Lucy fan/pal Michael Stern.
Stern met Ball at a taping of one of her sitcoms and they became fast friends. (Image via iUniverse)
Stern, the author of the fabulously dishy-without-being-catty I Had a Ball: My Life with Lucille Ball — Revised Edition($28.99, iUniverse), gave an exclusive interview to Closer, talking about Lucy's real-life hidden secret. No, she didn't eat Carolyn's Appleby, as my friend John suggested. The interview is more about Lucy's self-doubt in her later years.
Just two of the 1,000s of celeb pic-withs Stern has acquired (Images via Michael Stern)
Key quote from Stern:
She really stayed home and did not get out. She had to be forced to go to the supermarket. She felt her fans didn't like her anymore, even though it wasn't true because anytime she'd do a public apperance, there was a standing ovation. The applause was deafening.
The rest of the article contains quotes from I Love Lucy guest star (very few of those left!) Barbara Eden, as well as Little Ricky himself, Keith Thibodeaux. Check it out if you can, and definitely check out Stern's book if you, too, loved Lucy.
Keep reading to watch and listen to Barbara Eden remembering Lucy ...
The Lambda Literary Award (Lammy) noms were announced today, honoring LGBTQ publishing of all stripes.
A friend called my attention to J. Aaron Sanders's Speakers of the Dead, the first in a series of Walt Whitman mysteries. Check out the tantalizing summary from Goodreads:
The year is 1843; the place: New York City. Aurora reporter Walt Whitman arrives at the Tombs prison yard where his friend Lena Stowe is scheduled to hang for the murder of her husband, Abraham. Walt intends to present evidence on Lena's behalf, but Sheriff Harris turns him away. Lena drops to her death, and Walt vows to posthumously exonerate her.
Walt's estranged boyfriend, Henry Saunders, returns to New York, and the two men uncover a link between body-snatching and Abraham's murder: a man named Samuel Clement. To get to Clement, Walt and Henry descend into a dangerous underworld where resurrection men steal the bodies of the recently deceased and sell them to medical colleges. With no legal means to acquire cadavers, medical students rely on these criminals, and Abraham's involvement with the Bone Bill—legislation that would put the resurrection men out of business—seems to have led to his and Lena's deaths.
Photographer Lauren Greenfield has spent a quarter century photographing absurdly status-obsessed buffoons for her monograph Generation Wealth.
In other words, you. And me.
Us! OMG, we're in a book!
The book promises to capture everyone from embryonic Kardashians to Russell Simmons and Brett Ratner to excited teenagers renting limos in which to flaunt their bling en route to dances that may wind up being the highlights of their lives.
Greenfield expanded upon the Kardashian’s [sic] immense influence over contemporary generations. To explain, she cites sociologist and economist Juliet Schor, who wrote the introduction to Greenfield’s monograph. “According to Schor, in America, people used to compare themselves to the person down the road,” she said. “Someone who had a little bit more than they did. Keeping up with the Joneses.”
Today, however, we’re no longer comparing ourselves with our neighbors, but with the chimerical images we encounter on TV screens and social media feeds. As Greenfield put it: “Now we’re ‘Keeping up with the Kardashians,’ comparing our houses to what we see on ‘MTV Cribs.’” The latter reference is a bit dated, but it brings us back to the project’s origins in 1992, when Greenfield first began documenting her hometown of Los Angeles.
Carleton Carpenter in fall 2012 (Image by Matthew Rettenmund)
“You know, you and I are gonna be singin' 'Aba Daba Honeymoon' when we're both a hundred years old!”
(GIF via MGM/Matthew Rettenmund/Tumblr @carletoncarpenterfanatic)
So said the late, great Debbie Reynolds to her duet partner and movie co-star Carleton Carpenter over 60 years ago, and while their final performance of the tune together was in 2012 (when she was 80 and he 86), she was right in that their indelible rendition of that old chestnut in the 1950 film Two Weeks with Love was prominently mentioned in every one of Debbie's adoring obituaries. That unforgettable performance only happened thanks to the ingenuity of “Carp,” who recalls duping his boss into thinking it had been his own idea.
Last Live Perf of “Aba Daba Honeymoon” at 5:21:
“That was a whole big ruse,” the 90-year-old actor recalls in a phone interview from his Warwick, New York, home. “I found that sheet music in a pile on top of a piano on the set of the movie, dug that out and thought it would be fun. I put that sheet of music back underneath the whole pile with a little corner hanging out and I waited about two and a half days until Jack Cummings, who was the producer, was on his way in. I got Deb over and I pulled this out and there was someone playing the piano there and I said, 'Don’t bother with any of the beginning stuff, just start here,' and we jabbered away. He came in and walked over to where we were singing and he said, 'You know —' it was hard to keep a straight face! — 'That would be a good number for the two of you…' And I said with the straightest face ever, 'Reallllly?' The rest is history.”
Carpenter & Reynolds performing “Aba Daba Honeymoon” at a Busby Berkeley Thalians tribute in 1971
Carpenter, not a household name except in the households of true cinephiles, has nonetheless made history more than once in his 70-plus-year career, starting with the unprecedented chart success of “Aba Daba Honeymoon” and continuing with his work in early TV, spectacular runs on Broadway and Off- (he took over the lead in the original production of The Boys in the Band), his nonchalant handling of his bisexuality and, now, the publication of his detail-packed memoir, The Absolute Joy of Work: From Vermont to Broadway, Hollywood and Damn Near 'Round the World (BearManor Media, $24.95).
With typical humility, Carpenter chalks up his success to luck and pursuing an acting career with the naïveté of a kid from Vermont who showed up in Times Square 100% convinced he was right for the part — any part, some part.
He says he got his first Broadway show, Bright Boy, fresh off the bus one frigid January in 1944 at age 17. He picked up Actor's Cues for a nickel, went somewhere to grab a bite and found his calling. “They were looking for 17-to-20-year-old guys for a play and I thought, 'I’ll just go get that after lunch.' I got over there and they said it was on the top floor and when I got up there, you heard them rumble from the room and the door opened and the guy was leading somebody out the door and I was there and he said, 'You’re too old!' and took the other actor down. A guy sitting there grabbed the bottom of my heavy winter coat and said, 'They told me the same thing six months ago… and I’m still reading for the part!'”
Carpenter & Michael Dreyfus in Bright Boy (Image via Carleton Carpenter)
That did it. “Off came the coat and I scrunched down behind several people and smoked three or four cigarettes and probably 35 or 40 minutes later the same guy with the slate board in his hand came over and said, 'Hey, you’re next.' I went in and read five different parts and they gave me the show and told me to go into the other room and read it, so I did. Then they told me they wanted me in the show, but they didn’t know what part, and could I come in the next morning? I left and was practically on top of Grand Central, so I picked up my bag and headed for my mother’s second cousin’s place. He asked me how I did and I said, 'I think I have a show.' He said, 'That’s nice.'”