Loesser Is More

Until a couple of weeks ago, I took the great American songwriter Frank Loesser for granted. I knew the name, and if I pressed my own brain might have remembered that he wrote the words and music to Guys and Dolls and How To Success in Business Without Really Trying, but would not have known that he was the author of "Slow Boat To China" and "Baby, It's Cold Outside." I would not have known that he was responsible for the 1940's novelty hit "Murder, He Says," which I have on my iPod in the Gene Krupa-Anita O'Day version, and play occasionally for a smile and trip down to bobby-soxer memory lane. (No, I wasn't a bobby-soxer; I was a little kid who thought bobby-soxers were fascinating in a hilarious way.)

Clever lyrics and a seamless way of integrating song with the action of a story were hallmarks of Loesser's genius. If you don't think "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is witty, listen to it once more. If you miss the significance of a song like "I Believe in You," listen to the cast album (or rent the movie--this one does capture the show). It's sung by the young hustler (Robert Morse played the role to perfection), as he looks at his own image in the corporate men's room mirror--surrounded by his competition, all taking an extra shave with their kazoo electric razors as they chant in desperate counterpoint, "Gotta stop that man, cold, or he'll stop me...")

Last week was a banner one for Frank Loesser and me. To begin with, the excellent production of Guys and Dolls at Hoboken High, just around the corner from my apartment, transported me to that odd corner of Damon Runyon's New York through the music and words of Loesser at his best. The production offered a fresh approach to the show, too long occupied in memory by the lackluster film dragged down by a lost-looking Marlon Brando. An unquestionably great actor, Brando showed no connection with music or with the milieu of Times Square crapshooters. At Hoboken High, the students worked their tails off dancing and singing, and approached their characters innocently with both the great courage and gusto of teenagers. I was brought back to the original intent of the material and the clever juxtaposition of romance with gritty street-smarts. Who but Frank Loesser could have captured the color of Runyan's Broadway? Who else could have written, "Da Biltmore garage wants a grand/But we ain't got a grand on hand/And dey now got a lock on the da door/Of da gym at P.S. 84"? And conclude with the delicious syntax of "If we only had a lousy little grand we could be a millionaire!" to say nothing of the beautiful love songs and hilarious novelty numbers I described in the review you'll find if you scroll down to the post before last.

I was lucky enough also to attend a Loesser evening at the New-York Historical Society Museum a week ago, moderated by journalist Pete Hamill, who was clearly relishing every song, particularly those from Guys and Dolls. There were interpolations of "Adelaide, Adelaide, Ever-Lovin' Adelaide," and "A Woman in Love," both of which were in the lamentable film but not in the stage play.

Loesser's widow, the extraordinary Jo Sullivan, who played the original Rosabella in The Most Happy Fella, graced the evening with her favorite of his songs, "Spring Will Be a Little Late This Year," which, as she noted, was introduced by Deanna Durbin in the 1944 movie Christmas Holiday. Sullivan still sings like an angel; she also performed a duet with her beautiful daughter Emily Loesser which was wonderful to hear.

The benefit gala was staged as a fund-raiser for the Museum's American Musicals Project, which uses the study of American musicals to provide a context for teaching social studies to New York City schools, and a worthy project it is. The gala itself introduced us to excerpts from some of Loesser's letters to friends including Bob Fosse. It left me wanting to know more about Frank Loesser. If you want to do the same, there is a wonderful website that will get you started.

If You Never Read Another Book

It is fitting for today’s world when so much has gone awry that we take a moment to look at lives of purpose, of promise, and of wisdom. In times such as these, this inauspicious little book, based on experiences in an obscure town in South Alabama, is the one you should reach for. It will transport you to a period of hope and a place of experimentation. It may well be just what you and the rest of America needs.

The Fair Hope of Heaven is now for sale on amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com. Its appeal is wider than just the little town that spawned it. It addresses the search for meaning and the dreams of men and women of the past, present, and future. Reviewers have already written of it:

Daniel Spiro, Washington, D.C. attorney and author of The Creed Room and Moses The Heretic, writes: “Some dreams are realistic, some are utopian. I would almost put in the latter category my dream of someday writing a book with the exquisite timing of this one. One day, we find ourselves living in the very prototype of an advanced capitalist society; a few months later, Newsweek adorns its cover with the inscription, 'We Are All Socialists Now.' Or are we? When you read Mary Lois Timbes' newest work on Fairhope, Alabama, you might not use the word 'socialist' quite so glibly. This is a charming, breezy read about a town founded roughly a century ago on the belief in the idea of Henry George, who argued that land is the only commodity that should be taxed at all, and all citizens should share equitably in the fruits of those taxes. But ... as Ms. Timbes tell us, Fairhope was not socialist. It was, in fact, the model of an individualistic society in the sense of celebrating the diversity and accepting the eccentricities of its residents - the kind of characters who typically would be ostracized in small towns and lost in big ones.

“Reading about Fairhope would be a delightful experience at any time, but it is especially valuable now, when we are all questioning some of the assumptions upon which our economic thinking have been based for so long. Get ready to experience a place where you probably wished you could live - you'll revel in the outstanding accomplishments of its residents of yesteryear, and wonder why the residents of today aren't more interested in returning the town to the glories of its past. Such is always the curse of utopias - like euphoria itself, they never last.”

Dr. Paul M. Gaston, Professor Emeritus of Southern History at the University of Virginia, and author of Women of Fair Hope, E.B.Gaston, Man and Mission, and the upcoming autobiography Coming of Age in Utopia: The Odyssey of an Idea, has this to say about The Fair Hope of Heaven: “With insight and sensitivity, Mary Lois Timbes recalls and reveals the Fairhope utopian colony as it once was and has become. The biographical sketches of some of the colony's unique characters will delight those who knew them and attract those who meet them here for the first time.”

Perdita Buchan, author of Utopia, New Jersey, wrote this review: “The Fair Hope of Heaven is a charming evocation of the town on Mobile Bay that began as a utopian experiment - and of the many unusual and appealing characters who made it their home from its beginning in 1894 to the present. Eccentric they may have been, but they lived lives valuable to themselves and the community. And it is valuable to have them remembered.”

Numerous friends have contributed to the commentary about The Fair Hope of Heaven. The following quotes are from emails from some who got a look at advance copies of the book:

“Enjoyed it thoroughly,” writes Rupert Schmitt, aka the man in my garage; Azo, AZ
“Delightful,” Rex Anderson, Mardi Grass Lawn Maintenance; Mobile, AL
“I will be very happy to write a glowing review of your wonderful book…I read it almost nonstop, and when I finished I reread it and digested it more thoroughly. It was beautifully written.” Vance Rockwell, contractor, Pensacola, FL

It is essential to my success as a writer that both amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.com get numerous orders for the book before the end of February. If you never buy another book, or even read one, go to either of these websites immediately and order a copy. Now is the time for readers of Finding Myself in Hoboken to take that next step and buy a book by its writer.

Too small for a doorstop, the book may serve any number of other purposes. It will make a wonderful gift to someone who admires people with extraordinary lives. Reading is good for you. It's not fattening. It will make you feel good, even if you never heard of Fairhope, Alabama, and didn't know you would want to. You want to now. Do it. Then let me know what you think.

Here's To the Offbeat

December 6, 2008

If you're looking for something a little offbeat to read, I just discovered that my friend Rupert Schmitt had published a book of poetry. There is nobody more offbeat than Rupert who spent a few nights in my garage a year or so ago, not long before I moved to Hoboken.

Here's one of his poems.

Film Against Mountain

Mountain
Are you too sacred
To catch on film?

You have strategies
From Rock to Rattle my ego.
Your vastness
Shakes my center.

Am I mocked?
Will I remember mountain
On the lost roll of film?

Immoral to consider
Looking at you
As one of 36 slides
Stuck in a folder
In a box
Buried under the talus slide
In my bedroom.

On your slopes a man loses
If he pounds his chest
Screaming
Look at me!
Look at me!
Look at me!

Months later
I found the film
Within a tube
In its can,
Jammed in the glove compartment
Of my bright red Rambler wagon.

There is no competition
Memory versus film
The trap of emulsion.

Mountain Spirit is seared into my brain
Like filet mignon wrapped in bacon
At Antoine's in New Orleans
When I was eighteen.

Even that is not as offbeat at Rupert himself, but it demonstrates his magic. He dwells in many places at once, bouncing happily off the walls and contemplating the mysteries of the outdoors. A retired environmental scientist, he is now a performance artist, poet and painter living in Arizona and going where he likes. He loves animals and nature, and his book The Interview reflects that. He is at once serious and whimsical, funny and profound. In his poems he captures many facets of a life lived for its own sake, full of love and the adventure of small events and odd creatures. He writes of cats and water birds, of family and love affairs. He looks at the world with wonder, humor, and sometimes anger. Even though not always thorough and disciplined as a poet--and never lengthy--he is always original and always delicious.

If you're interested, the book can be ordered from Amazon.com, for Christmas or if you're in the mood for something a little offbeat yourself.

A Blast from Hoboken's Past

May 14, 2008

I got an email from a reader who really knows Hoboken. Here's what he wrote me:

I came from hoboken. I’m 69 now and I came across your site by mistake ...I’m glad .....YES hoboken has changed ...its not the quiet town it used to be back in the 1950s.

As a young boy there was some great hangouts to have fun in, BUT they are all gone now. I’m not talking about the bars...there was always plenty of them...I’m talking about the ice cream parlor hangouts...such as ABLE’S across from Sacred Heart Acadamy on Washington Street, JACK-O –DINE’S on the corner by Demarest H.S., JANETTE’S on First and Washington Street. Biggie’s I think is still there but it's not the same.

They were the fun centers of our youth. Famed deejay ALLEN FREED rock and roll shows at the Fabian Theater, destroyed, now a supermarket...the mood and values all vanished it seems...the girls were just lovely...I’m sure time has changed that, just a little…I still have my girl friend I met in ABLE’S in 1958...she was a Sacred Heart Acadamy grad …I was the black jacket greased haired hot rodder that you did not want your daughter to go out with ..BUT YOU CANT JUDGE A BOOK BY ITS COVER...I was sweet and charming back then…and still am...THEN CAME THE VIET NAM WAR...WELL my girl friend married me in St. Ann’s Church and off we went...to war together...looking back to Hoboken with fond memories...4 kids 12 grandchildren later...we still love Hoboken...its memories, that is.

Looking at the two pictures: The first one is in front of St. Matthew’s Church on 9th and Hudson Street. Not in the picture is the hill to the right leading up Stevens campus we used to call DEAD MAN’S HILL...sledding in the winter (just a guess) ...the other with the steps (we used to call a stoop) is either on Park Avenue or Hudson Street...in the same area...I only lived a few blocks from there 924 garden street. Stevens Forum and Girl Scouts were right next door to me, now it’s a parking garage.

He's right about the places he identified in the pictures. Hudson is the street and he even knew the block. Well, why wouldn't he? He has a pretty good memory, maybe not another . Jill Price, but probably as close as I am. I love his emails -- he's sent me more with a lot of interesting info about Frank Sinatra (whose The Tender Trap will be on Turner Classic Movies tonight, a real microcosm of the 1950's)...my pen pal's writing style is a little contagious...gotta watch that...but it's a great read anyway. Don't you agree?

I'll share more of his snapshots of Old Hoboken from time to time. I can see him now in his leather jacket with his greased hair, a boy that Mama wouldn't let near the house. Luckily for Mama my house was in Montrose, Alabama, and the wild ones from Hoboken didn't know how to find it.