CHANCES ARE

When I was fourteen and hormones were raging and girls became very important to our survival a new singer emerged to become our make out minstrel, our slow dance balladeer. His name was Johnny Mathis."Chances Are" "Wonderful, Wonderful", 'A Certain Smile", "When Sunny Gets Blue" and his unforgettable interpretation of the Errol Garner classic "Misty" became locked in my memories. Fifty five years later and they are still there. I grew to love Sinatra and Tony Bennett, Mel Torme and a host of others. But Johnny Mathis was always associated with early romances and first loves. Playing "Chances Are " over and over while we slow danced or made out on some basement couch. The nice thing about this memory is that the music is just as fresh and just as romantic as it was more than a half century ago. And Johnny Mathis has only added to this legacy with more than 350 million records sold world wide. He made us realize life as grown ups with "Me and Mrs. Jones" and revived our love affair with great songs from the movies in his extraordinary collaboration with Henry Mancini. Years might pass and as my musical tastes explored Jimmy Witherspoon, John Duffey, Ray Charles, Joe Williams, Willie Nelson, Bob Seeger O.C. Smith and countless others I would hear Johnny Mathis on a film score or late night television and the memories and the appreciation would come flooding back.

I was working as the director of Special Events at the National Building Museum in Washington. When I got the job the building was undergoing a complete renovation. The former Pension Building , one of Washington's true architectural wonders, was saved from demolition by the efforts of Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan and a small army of determined preservationists who succeeded in convincing Congress to renovate the building and create a museum dedicated to the "building arts." Thus the National Building Museum was born and it would operate in the building to be maintained by the General Services Administration. Thus all maintenance, cleaning , security and general operations would be performed by GSA as it was know. The building's "Great Hall" was a marvel: five stories high, larger than a football field and supported and surrounded by Corinthian and Doric columns. It was a space that had been designed for and now restored for grand special events. According to its charter it would host an Inaugural Ball and Dinner every four years,. At all other times it could be rented and the revenues used to support the Museum.It was my job to seek out and rent the facility and manage the events.  Everything from film premiers, the Symphony Ball, new car introductions, diplomatic receptions and countless charitable fund raisers were held there.

One of the highlights every year was the taping of the television program "Christmas in Washington."The creation of producer George Stevens the program featured several musical stars, the Naval Academy Choir and it was attended by the President and First Lady along with a a roster of guests that were truly the "A List" of Washington only "important" senators and congressmen, diplomats and journalists. NBC broadcast it for many years. It is now on TNT.Back in the mid nineties the musical star of "Christmas in Washington" was Johnny Mathis. His Christmas album from the early sixties had remained a classic so he was perfect for the show. As rehearsals began everyone stopped their work for a moment as that wonderful voice echoed through the building. This was not just a hot pop star but an artist who had helped to define Christmas for more than forty years.

Some maintenance need sent me to the third floor where the GSA building management team had their offices. Thelma, the assistant building manger, was a large, joyous and highly competent woman with eight kids. When our business was concluded she said' I have always been in love with Johnny Mathis. I invited him to my Senior Prom but of course he didn't come." I said why don't come to the dress rehearsal on Saturday night. It's open to all the staff. You can bring your whole family" "Oh I would love to but Saturday night is choir practice and I can't miss that". I went back to work and started looking for Johnny Mathis' manager. I regret to say I have forgotten his name, but when I found him I asked for a  favor. Can you get Mr. Mathis to autograph a picture for someone on the staff? I told him the  story of Thelma and the prom invitation. With regret he explained that he hadn't brought any photos but as soon as they returned to LA he would send me one. Sure.

It was a truly memorable "Christmas in Washington" all because of Johnny Mathis and the glorious music. As always I invited a lot  of friends to the dress rehearsal and we went to Chinatown for dinner afterwards. Everyone young and old was talking about him and not just how good he sounded but how great he looked. Tuesday morning arrived and just before 10 AM the Fed Ex guy showed up in my office.I opened the envelope and then hurried to the third floor. "Thelma, this is for you you" She looked at me with great suspicion as she opened it. Iinside was a photo of Johnny Mathis with the following inscription: "Thelma, sorry I missed the prom. All my love, Johnny."; She cried and maybe I did a little too.

I saw him on a talk show not long after this when he said the he lived "a very simple life." "I play a little golf. I cook a little(he is renowned in LA for his Italian cooking) and oh, yeah I sing a little." Indeed he does. I saw him at Wolf Trap a few years ago at the age of seventy-two looking maybe fifty. When he reached the memorable phrase "On my own will I wander through this world alone" he smiled and winked as he glided effortlessly through it. This past Christmas I knew I would spend it alone but still tried to maintain the spirt. Jay Leno always features Christmas music for a couple of weeks  Jay said"It just isn't Christmas without Johnny Mathis. When I hear him it truly is Christmas for me. " Dressed in his trademark sweater, white pants and tennis shoes he sang a medley of "The Christmas Song" and "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.".Jay's right. Merry Christmas, BC."

As I was preparing to write this little piece I listened to that early music and wished that there was someone here to slow dance with...'Chances are when I wear a silly grin..."

Angie in Austin

I had not been in Austin long when I saw an announcement for a screening of'Rio Bravo" at the restored Paramount Theatre . Angie Dickinson and Ben Mankiewitz(Turner Classic Movies was the sponsor) would be there. This was to commemorate the 50th anniversary of this classic Western starring John Wayne, Dean Martin, Rick Nelson, Walter Brennan and Angie Dickinson in the role that would make her a starluck. I was lucky to get a ticket to what was easily a "sold out" event. Not only is "Rio Bravo" one of my favorite Westerns but Angie Dickinson...well, read on.

My dad and I agreed on few things but when Angie Dickinson made televsion history by starring in "Police
Woman" we never missed an episode. It was the first time the star of a police drama was a woman. Angie brought not only her considerable film acting skill to the show she made this cop tough, intelligent, and sexy. Telvision can influence people and Angie Dickinson's "Police Woman " convinced a lot of young women that they could indeed compete and succeed in  what was once an all male world and still be attractive..In one memorable episode she was undercover and wearing a wire gathering information but when she became attracted to one of the card players at a game and the suspect was gone she turned off the wire and and went with her new friend to his hotel room. Guys like us all over America were on so jealous. Angie Dickinson was truly beautiful and incredibly sexy but there was also something about her that was so likable, so warm., so sincerely charming. I subsequently learned that people in the movie business loved to work with her because she was a competent professional and and an absolute charmer. She became the only woman invited to be a regular at Gregory Peck's long running poker game. The great personal struggle with her much troubled daughter never diminished the warmth and sincere charm she always had for the people in her life.

I was working as Director of Special Events at the National Building Museum in Washington when I got a call from a movie and television location scout. Angie Dickinson was filming a pilot for a new telvision show that was based in Washington and they wanted to shoot part of the pilot in the museum..."and you will get to meet one of the nicest people in the movies" the scout said. No one was disappointed. She was charming and gracious to everyone and at the age of sixty-six still a knockout. The filming had finished and I went back to my office. The doors to office were glass and I had no sooner sat down at my destk when there was a knoc k. I jumped up and opened the door for Angie Dickinson. "May I use a phone?" she asked. "Of course, Miss Dickinson." " Call me Angie" she said. "Do you need privacy?" "Oh no and this building it's so beautiful. Thank you for letting us use it." I unashamedly replied " A lot more beautiful this afternoon." She laughed and winked " thank you."

Forward to Austin and the screening of 'Rio Bravo". Angie Dickinson was just a few months shy of eighty. Ben Mankiewitz read a roster of the notable actors that she had worked with over a more than sixty year career. It was amazing. And onstage came this still beautiful star dressed in a black pants with a white blouse worn stylishly out, very cool sneakers and a little straw hat with the brim turned up. Mankiewitz asked  questions and her responses were filled with great stories, wonderful humor and she was still oh so sexy. A few questions were asked from the audience and she flirted with everyone. A guy in his forties got up and asked if she would sign his "Bravo" poster."Of course, darling, wait for me in the car". And with that the evening was over.

I reflected later on how some people like Angie Dickinson and my friend Marian are able to age so gracefully and remain young at heart and spirit seemingly forever. Eugene O'Neill said "Do not go gentle into that good night" and they don't.

The Chief

There used to be a little regional theatre in Washington DC called the Washington Theater Club. It made its reputation in a tiny one hundred and forty five seat venue at 16th and O Street. Davey Marlin Jones was hired as artistic director and he was determined to make the theatre a showcase for new plays. The founder was a little fireball of a woman named Hazel Wentworth and she eagerly embraced the new vision. The coveted Margo Jones award for the introduction of new plays was given to the theatre and it began to sell out every performance and have an enthusiastic group of subscribers and supporters in the Washington community. This was before the Kennedy Center was built and the shining star in Washington theatre was the Arena Stage, one of the most respected regional theatres in the country. And yet sticking to new plays or very obscure second time productions enabled the Theater Club to flourish.

But as inevitably happens with far too many artistic groups the Washington Theater Club decided that it's success meant that it must expand to larger facilities and thus serve a larger audience. It moved to a converted movie theatre at 23rd and L Street with three hundred and eighty nine seats, more than twice the number in its original home. "Build it and they will come" did not apply here and almost from the outset it struggled to fill the new seats. The little, small set, quirky plays upon which it's reputation was made were no longer enough. Many changes would be made to its artistic vision and this little story is about one of the more successful ones.

The decision was made to produce a wonderful play called "The Ectasy of Rita Joe" a Canadian play about the struggles of an Aboriginal woman in the city. The original leads Frances Hyland and Chief Dan George were hired to headline the production. Chief Dan George had an Academy Award nomination for his performance in "Little Big Man" and is often remembered for his wonderful comic turn with Clint Eastwood in "The Outlaw Josie Wales".

By the time he arrived in Washington he was eighty years old and a fine, fine actor noted for being quiet if not taciturn off stage. Rehearsals went well in the rehearsal space and finally it was time to move to the stage and begin refining the work. A multi level, many step set had been designed and as the Chief was crossing down stage he stumbled briefly on a step. Suddenly all action was stopped. The director came out of the seats and on to the stage, followed by the stage manager, the designer and someone was sent to summon the managing director to solve this mammoth problem. Theatre people are nothing if not caring and concerned. Despite the egos they can rally to help one another and particularly in a situation like this to protect the aging star. The conversation was heated and everyone had an opinion: re-design the set, take out the step, eliminate the cross he had to make. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

Finally there was a brief break and Chief Dan George spoke: "Last year, hunt elk, shoot, wound, track for three days though the snow, finally kill... I make step"

Without another word from anyone places were taken, the rehearsal continued. The production opened to rave reviews, almost sold out and yes Chief Dan George never missed a step.

note: the reader will notice two different spellings for theatre. I never knew why the Washington Theater Club misspelled it's name if indeed it did, but I studied theatre with Bill Walton at Wake Forest and there was only ONE spelling of the word.

Good night sweet prince..

In the fall of 1956 Wake Forest College moved to Winston Salem, North Carolina after more than one hundred years in Wake Forest, a small town just outside Raleigh. The businesses in Winston-Salem and the families that owned them built a brand new campus from ground up and bestowed a heavy endowment on the college.

The library was a nine story structure that housed books and research materials. However, the top two floors were designated to be the college theatre. It was an empty space until a brash young theatre major from the University of Nebraska named James H. "Bill" Walton was hired to create a theatre. Along with a group of enthusiastic students eager to have theatre on the campus a very workable proscenium theatre was built and then an arena stage was added. When I arrived in the fall of 1961 I was immediately impressed with this man who I thought was much older than his twenty eight years. Mr. Walton was bald, wore thick glasses and chain smoked Camels but in the orientation program he conveyed that this was more than a theatre. I was feeling somewhat lost and alone and this guy made me want to come back. Soon he was recruiting volunteers for a "little project" that would greatly enhance the theatre.A drive in movie theatre in town was replacing it's seats--yes they had several rows of seats outdoors presumably for those who did not want to sit in their cars for a double feature. I had no idea that people went to drive ins to actually watch a movie, but I was in college now and learning new things.

We all gathered at the theatre on a Saturday morning and piled into a stake body truck and took off for the drive in. We had to load the seats in rows on to the truck. They were bolted together seat by seat and trying to handle this snake of steel and wood was impossible but the professor yelled at us constantly and somehow we piled all these seats on the truck and then piled ourselves on it as well.

The seats did not fit on the elevators so the next job was to somehow get the damn things up to the ninth level. Sometime in the afternoon we finally got all of them up and a dozen would be actors, designers and directors lay sprawled on the stage moaning from exhaustion. But the job was not done. Mr. Walton wanted them placed and bolted down before we left. The trouble was none of the rows were exactly the same so we had to keep shifting them to make them fit. We lifted whole rows as Mr. Walton tried to eyeball where they would fit. It was like a giant game of checkers with a mad man as the master. Finally he was satisfied and we all left wondering when the fun and excitement of theatre would begin.

The first production in the "new" theatre was "Hamlet". Mr. Walton was directing but he had invited a friend from summer stock to coach us on Shakespeare and to play the role of Gertrude, Hamlet's mother.Her name was Gina Petrushka and she had a very impressive career including working with Bertold Brecht in her native Germany. I was fortunate to play Rosencranz in an excellent cast that was headed by John Rosenthal, a fine actor. The entire cast had acting experience. The set, lighting and costumes were excellent. Mr. Walton had been directing and teaching for years in college and in summer stock companies. His standards were high and he demanded a great deal from all of us. The production was very well received on campus and in the community of Winston-Salem and we began to sell out. Late into the run the most unforgettable evening I have ever spent in the theatre occurred.

It was the last scene in the play, the "death scene" and everything was going well. Suddenly from up stage center a college security guard appeared looking like some Southern sheriff from central casting. A cop hat was pushed back on his mostly bald head. His belly protruded over his gun belt. When the stage lights hit his eyes he glared around but seemed totally oblivious to the actors and the audience. He then casually strolled down the center , stepped off the foot high stage and disappeared up the aisle. No one in the cast most of whom were "dieing" on stage could believe it. Actors are taught that no matter what never break character. Props fail to be placed, whole pages of script can be dropped by a fellow actor but you press on. You stay "in character", do your best and try to never let the audience know that anything is wrong. But this was too much even for the highly experienced Ms. Petrushka. She started to laugh and kept turning away from the audience trying to cover her laughter but it just set the rest of us off. We were all laughing hard and trying to keep going with this the climactic scene in the play. And finally we did. The action of all the stabbings finally stopped our laughter and we got back to the drama.

And then he came back!

Having finished his business he strolled casually up the aisle stepped on the stage, crossed up center and disappeared. Again the actors broke out in laughter that they continued to try and hide. As a slain Hamlet lay in Laertes' arms the actor seemed to be crying almost uncontrollably only we knew it was laughter as he uttered "Good night, sweet prince....but..."thoughts of angels sing thee to thy rest" was completely drowned out by the continual chant "WE WANT PANTIES, WE WANT PANTIES." The first pantie raid in more than four years was being held at the women's dorms. We later learned that the president of the college was in the audience also for the first time in four years.

We did not take a curtain call but ran backstage and laughed and laughed. Gina Petruska said "Forty years in the theatre and this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to me."

It's been fifty years now for me and still nothing compares.

I remain good friends with Bill Walton, that brash young professor and am grateful for all that he taught me about theatre(and life) over the years. I am not sure he ever believed what happened on that memorable night of "Hamlet".

"I dont think I know you..."

I was originally going to Guadalajara, but two attempts to secure affordable housing failed. I had been reading about San Miguel de Allende. My golf buddy Berkley Kerns told me how his grandfather had insisted he spend a summer there. Berkley loved it.
Almost all of my friends in Merida warned me that San Miguel was too expensive and the gringos were cliquish and unfriendly. I found a listing on Craigslist that was affordable but the owner already had a reservation Fortunately, it fell through. I had a place to live starting December 1. I had already booked a flight to Guadalajara. I wish now I had gone by bus because as I have previously written bus travel in Mexico is wonderful. The modern, clean, comfortable Volvo 9700 coaches are a delight. And you get to see the beautiful country.

"The Kindness of Strangers" was the title of a previous blog and the experience continues. Cab fare from the airport in Guadalajara was almost as much as the air fare from Merida so I opted to take the bus. I asked the dispatcher how to do it and he said a transfer was necessary. This very nice man said he would show me and indeed he did. Even with the heavy bag {and his help) I managed. The trip took about forty five minutes and I did not get to see any of Guadalajara's historic section, but I made it dragging the bag through three blocks of construction near the terminal. I had planned to read during the journey to San Miguel but the countryside, the mountains everywhere were just too overwhelming and I spent five hours loving a very different Mexico. The flatness of the Yucatan had been replaced by the splendor of the Sierra Nevada mountains. We were steadily climbing and as the lovely sun finally set we arrived in San Miguel de Allende. My new address baffled the first cab driver but I convinced a more experienced one to take me. As we climbed through the cobblestone streets they became narrower and narrower. At one point I thought there was no way he could get his cab through what appeared to be a walk way not a street. Finally we arrived at the address and the view of the town below with it's twinkling lights and the clear sky above truly took my breath away. I knocked on the big black gates and was greeted by this welcoming Texas voice that proved to be that of the owner the ever amazing Betsy Streng(more about this remarkable lady later). Homemade soup and red wine awaited me in the "efficiency" and I prepared to settle in for the night. The apartment was small but immediately comfortable with maybe the nicest bed I have ever slept in. And the temperature in San Miguel was in the mid forties--about fifty degrees lower than Merida: wonderful!

And so I began to settle in to what has now become my home. There is a serendipity to San Miguel that is absolutely beguiling. The first day I was there I set off down the steep hill of Calle Santa Domingo in search of the Jardin. It is a lovely park across from the cathedral or Parochia and the true center of the town. People come to the Jardin to sit and relax or read, watch the continuous stream of people passing by,get a shoeshine, eat a quick meal from the many vendors who line the streets, listen to the mariachis at night or the the many concerts that are staged there and to dance. Dancing in a public park is a great Mexican tradition and it lives in San Miguel--more, much more about dancing later.

I sat on one of the benches and just watched the endless parade of people passng by:
some clearly on there way to some destination and others just casually strolling. Tourists, visitors from a nearby town, back packers and wanderers from all over the world find their way to the Jardin. And you will see extraordinarily beautiful Mexican women some who turn your head and some that take your breath away. Into this rainbow of people a stranger, clearly a gringo like me, tilted his head and said,"I don't think I know you. I'm Rick Iverson." He sat and we talked for an hour before going to his apartment for a beer and more talk. Rick, a former Navy pilot, flew commercially for twenty nine years: twenty with Pan Am and nine with Air New Zealand. There are very few places in the world that Rick does not know well. Ten years ago he chose San Miguel de Allende as his home. He is not a writer or an artist or an an actor or a musician like so many who make there home here. He just loves the place: the weather, the beautiful sixteenth century architecture, the breathtaking views because we are in foot of the Sierra Nevada mountains, the restaurants and the fascinating group of people who come from all over the world and often stay. Rick has become a good friend and a guide to this city he knows so well.

Washington DC is a truly international city but unless you are fortunate enough to somehow become a part of the international community it is truly difficult to experience it beyond the wonderful array of restaurants that it is so fortunate to have. San Miguel is about the size of Alexandria but the experience is completely different. The Jardin just seems to be a natural magnet for everone. Add to that the Bibliotecha--the library that is also a center for activity from a wonderful selection of books, the publication of the Attencion, the bilingual newspaper published weekly. It has a cafe, a constantly busy theater, film showings, lectures, house and garden tours, concerts, Spanish and English classes and a lovely patio where one can sit and read or chat with friends. People from all over the world come here and are drawn to these two wonderful places in San Miguel. The Mexican people are truly warm, friendly and outgoing. As large as the ex-Pat and international community is this remains a thoroughly Mexican city that has fortunately extended itself to the world and made all of us welcome. I am grateful to a a part of it.
More later..

A selection of some of my digital images of San Miguel de Allende are below.