Birthday Boy: Forever

The Master is 87 today. Only appropriate, then, to spend a moment with a masterpiece.

Working Girl

Like a great many people all of a sudden, I find myself these past few days thinking about Joan Crawford.

Going Hollywood

Just because we've lost Robert Osborne, who sailed off to Fabulon yesterday, and because the bedraggled old world is weighing me down, I think we need a good, heady shot of adrenaline, courtesy of the YouTube genius saraismyname.

This Cheating Heart...

Well, some news truly is unexpected...

Woman of the World

I was thinking that it was about time for a Garbo moment, but then I heard (thank you, TJB!) that this remarkable creature would have turned 85 today. What better reason for an Elizabeth moment?

That Happy Feeling

This has popped up hereabouts before, but it appeared in my Facebook feed today and I decided it was just what I needed, and perhaps you do, too. A light in bleak times, the Merm...

And Now, A Word From Our Sponsor!

Another fine consumer product in the people's paradise. Estée Lauderovna, now available in all the fashionable new hues for 1975 - dun, dung, dim, dank, and mauve.

I Hate It When That Happens

We're all Millicent now.

Book 'Em

Over in her curious corner of the cyberverse*, the esteemed Mistress MJ has requested a glimpse at her Dear Readers' bookshelves, and I feel compelled to oblige.

You've Got My Heart

Just in time for Valentine's Day, herewith the latest from Egyptian superstar Amr Diab. The subtitles go with "You Own My Heart," but literally the title - "Maak Alby" - is "My Heart is with You."

Once More, With Feeling

We've done it before and, God willing, we'll do it again. It's a little tradition hereabouts in fact, and so I welcome the chance once more to wish all the dear Café regulars (along with any other stray visitors - welcome!) a very happy Karen Valentine's Day, with great good wishes from Mr. Muscato, Boudi, and me.

O Patria Mia

I'm home. While I was away, Miss Leontyne Price turned 90. Here she is in 2001.  I don't know about you, but hearing her, singing that, now, well...

Redux: Mother of Exiles

Did we dream that it could all change so quickly? Has it ever felt so surreal? How did we get trapped in an Isherwood story? I'm horrified, frightened, angry, and sad. I feel far from home, not because I'm traveling now, but because I'm not sure, today, where my home can be.

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, 
With conquering limbs astride from land to land; 
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand 
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame 
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name 
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand 
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command 
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. 
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she 
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, 
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, 
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, 
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

- Emma Lazarus

No Cure Like Travel

Well, I've been a bad travelogue-er, I know, but what with one thing and another, I've been rather on the go. And, given all that's going on in the world, I'm afraid I've had something of the grim expression of this lovely Matisse lady I ran into last weekend.

Everything is Fine.

It's David Lynch's birthday. Appropriate, somehow...

The Night Before the Morning After

So, here I am, ensconced in an on the whole entirely comfortable room in San Francisco.

Oh, God, I'm Repeating Myself...

Yes, it's travel time again, and once more I will be following in the brave, befuddled shoes of Dr. Howard Bannister and jetting out to San Francisco.

Rainbow High

On what is, at least in Our Nation's Capital, a gray and snowy day, why don't we go Around the World in Something Less than Eighty Ways with that redoubtable all-singin', all-dancin' star... Maureen O'Sullivan?

She Hopes You'll Understand

Well, all right then. Who doesn't remember where they were, one fateful night in 1991, when first this spectacular bit of bizarerie hit one's favorite video bar or dance floor?

Of Love and Broccoli, or, How I Spent My Tuesday

So not all that long ago, I was chatting cybernetically with the frenetically cultured, enormously soigné TJB (who really must be encouraged, sternly, to write more for public consumption), and he recommended a specific movie, available on YouTube, that I really must see.  I filed it away.

Or thought I did.