When I sent my friend Bill Kirchner a version of my post above about the Jones Trio dates, he mentioned a '47 Jones solo date (is that the same as the Savoy, Allen?***) that "is astounding in a Tatum-like way, but with Jones' own harmonic vocabulary. Should be required listening for any pianist -- or anyone interested in harmony."
*** Nope, it's a Granz date for Clef, a 10 inch.
Hank Jones Solo Hank Jones (piano) probably NYC, September-October, 1947601 | 236 | 1965-1The Night We Called It A DayMercury 1131; Clef 112; Mercury MG 25022; Clef MGC 707602 | 237 | 1964-1YesterdaysMercury 1130; Clef 113; Mercury MG 25022; Clef MGC 707603 | 238 | 1966-1You're BlaseMercury 1131; Clef 113; Mercury MG 25022; Clef MGC 707604 | 239 | 1963-1Tea For TwoMercury 1130; Clef 112; Mercury MG 25022; Clef MGC 707605 | 240 | 1967-1Blues For Lady DayMercury 1132; Clef 114; Mercury MG 25022; Clef MGC 707606 | 241 | 1968-1Blue Room-
Haynes plays himself, as do other Globetrotters like Nat "Sweetwater" Clifton -- Sidney Poitier plays Inman Jackson -- in this terrific little movie, "Go Man Go," from 1954 (directed by the great cinematographer James Wong Howe) about the formation and evolution of the team, with Dane Clark as the young and not yet rotund Abe Saperstein:
Great scene that's always stuck in my mind -- Saperstein and the Globetrotters in their early days are barnstorming and scuffling, check into a small town hotel or rooming house. In the middle of the night there's a knock on Abe's door. He answers it bleary eyed, asks the young guy at the door what he wants, guy says he wants to play for the Globetrotters. Abe (Dane Clark) says wearily, "Well, what can you do?"-- as in "What do you have to offer that might be attractive to us?" Guy says, "I can dribble." Abe says something like, "Anyone can dribble," Guy says, "I can dribble past you in this corridor" -- which is narrow enough that Dane Clark can put his hands on both walls at once. Dane crouches in a defensive stance, the guy takes a basketball (don't recall where he has it with him or Dane gives him one), and he dribbles up to and around Clark multiple times, back and forth, the ball bouncing at hummingbird speed, the lunging Clark never touches him. Astonished, Clark says, "What's your name, son?" "Marques Haynes."
I could go on to describe the final scenes of the film, where the now successful Globetrotters play a celebrated exhibition game against the NBA champion Minneapolis Lakers, led by George Mikan (this actually happened), falling well behind (the Globetrotters are nervous and uptight), until with a few minutes left in the game we begin to hear the whistled "Sweet Georgia Brown" on the soundtrack and Globetrotters hear it, too, and... Every time I've tried to tell someone about that scene, tears come to my eyes.
"Letterman's all-purpose slathered-on irony often annoyed me, and he never was very funny IMO, but there were a number of moments of useful genuine strangeness, e.g. when Emo Phillips was a guest or when Dave's mom paid a visit. Also, one felt that Letterman, armored though he was, was an actual human being. Fallon, Kimmel et al., no."
P.S. I did a longish, face-to-face interview with Letterman for the Chicago Tribune magazine in his agent's office in L.A. when rumors of Carson's retirement were in the air and Letterman was a rumored possible replacement. Dave was understandably wary, but we got along well after a while; he was damn smart. His agent was named Marty.
BTW, at that point in his life/career Dave was a great admirer of Jay Leno, who was the reining standup king of the LA comedy clubs and elsewhere and who had taken Letterman under his wing when he arrived in town from Indianapolis -- Jay having detected that the then inexperienced Letterman probably had what it took. Difficult to recall these days, but the young Leno could be very funny, especially when he was in a position to be spontaneous.
Was Jay's generosity/niceness wholly genuine? Having been on the receiving end of some of it myself around that time, I could sense that it might to some degree be defensive or manipulative -- i.e. he was perhaps being nice to people to whom it might be to his advantage to be nice -- but if so, his niceness was quite empathetic/ specifically tailored to who one was.
So glad I stopped watching "Mad Men" part ways through episode two of season one -- first because, as Chuck said at the time, having lived through the '50s I don't need to see them regurgitated; second, because I could tell right off that they were getting or going to get just about everything wrong. The ludicrously demonstrative smoking was a good clue.
Anita Ellis (Larry Kert’s older sister) — The way she handles sustained notes is something else. Ellis (a la Marni Nixon later on) did a good deal of dubbing for movie stars whose voices were felt to be not up to snuff. Most notably, in Rita Hayworth's "Put the Blame on Mame" number in "Gilda," that's Ellis' voice. In some ways such "ghost" roles may have suited Ellis; she suffered from paralyzing stage fright.