Eugene David ...The One-Minute Pundit |
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Saturday, March 28, 2009
Sorry Jonathan, I think it's best we leave the author of The Carpetbaggers buried.
And though it should remain buried too, we puzzle why someone hasn't turned that Grace Metalious mold into a movie again -- or better still, why JUDD APATOW couldn't turn her best-selling gag into a comedy; yes, I believe that bozo could do a whole movee on sex while driving. Amazing: the roots of our junky taste lie in the Ike years. (But not surprising given Hef and tail fins -- and Ike.) Now that would have been an article. Instead, Jonathan went daydreaming. NSG, Jonathan. OR: "If I'm a lousy writer, then an awful lot of people have lousy taste." You said it, Grace. She died of alcoholism. P. S. To the extent the numbers mean anything, Harold Robbins's best seller on Amazon.com is #87,150. Peyton Place is #98,738. The books may be gone but their smell lives on. We do have Franz Waxman, however. Beautiful flowers can grow in sludge. P. P. S. The story is well known but bears repeating: Toward the end of his stay in office Ike invited Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic to the White House for a concert that included the Rhapsody in Blue. Afterwards Ike exulted to Lenny: "It's got a theme. I like music with a theme -- not all them arias and barcarolles." Lenny got back at him by naming one of his last works Arias and Barcarolles.
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