Christiern

While we were out, I took some more pictures of the house. We seem to have lost the old ones, so here are some new ones, starting with the cornerstone. I think they made a mistake by not giving the inscription more air.

It's good to be home again! Have a good nap, Jim.

When she decided to return to singing, Alberta Hunter auditioned accompanists in my apartment. One of them was Jimmy Rowles. I was a bit embarrassed by the fact that my piano needed tuning. Anyway, Alberta rejected him. The following day, she rejected Claude Hopkins. She ended up hiring a crook who, upon her death, stole all her money.

Finally, here is the street sign. I think you will find it cool...

Here is the front of the building, facing Central Park West. Patients--and, later, nursing home residents--used to sit on the porch and watch the traffic go by. If you watch "Law & Order" regularly, you might recognize the building--in its state of deterioration, it was frequently used by the show.

Here we see the new apartment building towering in the background--the two buildings are linked, with the main entrance through the original, restored structure. They deliberately chose the tower architecture to make the hospital rooms round and, thus, unable to accumulate dirt.

And here are some of the photos. They removed the stained glass from the chapel windows and put in an extra floor. The crematorium chimney is also gone...

In 1884, they laid the cornerstone for New York's first cancer hospital and erected a building inspired by a French chateau. This was the genesis of Sloane-Kettering. The building had become a nursing home by 1963, when I moved into my apartment, but, not long thereafter, the owner was jailed for monumental Medicare fraud. All his nursing homes were closed and we whose hodd this is saw this great building deteriorate from neglect and vandalism. For the past few years, the property has been the subject of much speculation by real estate people. They wanted to tear the building down and erect in its place a tall apartment house. Fortunately, the neighborhood fought this move and succeeded in having the building declared a landmark (it is NYC's oldest hospital building). For several years, plans were made and abandoned, but now we are finally seeing the compromise get ready to open. Compromise being permission to erect an apartment house on the grounds while restoring the original "chateau." Apartment prices range from $1,670.000 to over 7 million. Here is the beginning of an item from the May 18, 1884 issue of the New York Times, followed by some photos I took the other day.

None of my ties look worse for where.

Stanley proves once again what an ignorant, agenda-driven ass he is. I have no quarrel with his praise for the MJO, but he elevates them at the expense of other great groups that came before them. Sure, the MJQ was concert-minded, but was it any more serious about the music than, say, the Benny Goodman Trio, Quartet, etc.? Of course not. The Quintette of the Hot Club of France is another group that should be taken every bit as seriously as the MJO. As for what he calls "neo-sambo minstrelsy," it is no different from the run-of-the-mill minstrelsy that has always been found in jazz--he gives short shrift to Dizzy's commercial antics, the berets, horn-rimmed glasses, etc., but was it any different? Were the zoot suits any less "minstrelsy" than today's baggy pants, gold pendants, and whatever other periphenalia the hip hoppers favor? In the 1920s it was ostrich feathers, giant head dresses, outrageous fabrics, etc., and the lingo has been jive since Bolden. Does Stanley really think that serious jazz began with the MJQ? This is actually a typical Stanley Crouch jive piece, it conveniently skip over facts that would get in the way of his agenda, and it has nothing new to say. The thread title is definitely misleading.

Of course the recordings weren't getting better, Mike. You can be sure that the ones he did for Milestone were also produced by him. Beyond manning the stopwatch and keeping the recording sheets, Orrin simply does not take on the role of producer in the studio. At least I have never seen him assert himself there, which is why I have always been convinced that he knew he had a tin ear.

I wonder if any of the reviewers know that Coca Cola was somewhat addictive in its first years, when it actually contained a small amount of cocaine. It was particularly popular in the South--mention Coke to Alberta Hunter and she could go on for a half hour singing (actually speaking) its praises. It was also Bessie Smith's favorite non-alcoholic drink. Does anyone know when they de-clawed Coke? I bet that professional soft drink reviewers are overweight.

...and a wretched little microphone.

Back in the days when I was writing a batch of reviews every month, I also spent much time at live performances. Sonny's recordings rarely matched what I had heard in person. I realize that there is a certain something--ambiance, I guess--that inevitably gets lost on recordings, even live ones, but while that may have been a factor, it was, I concluded, a negligible one.

These immediately come to mind... Stump Evans Sirone Eddie Heywood Jabbo Smith Charlie Shavers Elmer Snowden Carlos Ward Omar Simeon ...but, sad to say, there are many more who deserve higher recognition.

Francois was conversating with his mother, Monique. I wonder if there is French blood in that family--just speculatering and bearing in mind that all things French seem to give berigan the creeps. Creeps suzette?

The Harper Brothers came and went....or did they?

Yes, Jim, a piano bar! And you're right, brownie, it was Loftleiðir. Iceland had two airlines in those days, the other being Flugfélag Íslands, also known as Iceland Air.

In the 1960s, I used to make a monthly trip from NYC to California. First Class was only $15 more, so that's how I traveled, but Coach was not to be sneezed at. Here's the text from the back of this promotion: See it with your own eyes. It's bigger than most living rooms, has soft, cushiony seats all around, a stand-up bar in the middle... and not only is it on an airplane, but it's in coach. The American Airlines Coach Lounge. Take a walk to it, through it, around it. Stretch your legs. Relax, it's a place where you can mingle, make new friends, have some fun. Whatever. You can even give yourself a going away party while you're going away. By far, it's the most wonderful thing ever to happen to a coach passenger. But this new standard of comfort does not stop with our lounge. You'll notice it everywhere, from nose to tail. In our new 747 LuxuryLiner. In coach, for instance, we've taken out rows of seats and rearranged the layout do each passenger gets extra leg room. In first class, you can reserve a table for four. Dine with friends as you would in a restaurant on the ground. Play cards. Hold a business meeting. And upstairs is our redecorated first class lounge, a plush intimate spot where you can pour your own champagne and liqueurs. All this, plus our new transcontinental Flagship Service, featuring delicious Polynesian food served by our stewardesses in their pretty new outfits. If this sounds like a plane of the future, it isn't. Most of our 747s already have all these comforts, including the Coach Lounge. By May 2, every one will be a LuxuryLiner. They were not exaggerating. I might add that, upon making the reservation, one was given the choice of lobster, steak or chicken, that one's name was printed in gold on a card that identified one's seat, and the service was incredible. I often took AA's flight 21, which served food from NYC's 21 Club. This was a time when people still dressed up for a flight, a time when jeans and backpacks were something that one saw only on Iceland Air.

Just make up something, Chuck, and call it: "It Ain't Nessa....sarily So."

Thanks for the encouragements, y'all. Here's a status report. Lil Armstrong bio: I have, as EKE BBB points out, done research, but the main material I have is the work I did with Lil herself, not the least of which are wonderful pages of her own recollections and observations. A bio by James L. Dickerson was published in 2002, but it is so full of misinformation, ill-founded speculation and gratuitous fillers that it falls more into the category of bad fiction. Reading it prompted me to dust off the manuscript Lil and I worked on 30 years earlier, but it still needs a lot of work before it can become a book worthy of its subject. Unfortunately, I can't afford the time and money needed for research at this moments, so I have committed myself to finishing an autobiography. Autobiography: I have been jotting down bits and pieces of this since the 1950s, and a good thing that is, for my papers contain many details that have since disappeared into the recesses of my memory. I have put this book on the front burner because it requires much less research and, thus, less time and money. My hope is that it will open the door for the Lil book. The material for the autobiography is all there, much of it is already in the computer. The question now is: how candid should I be? My inclination is to not hold back on anything that might be of interest to a reader, but we shall see. In one sense, it would seem unfair of me to hold back after being so upfront when writing about Bessie Smith. Apropos Bessie, the paperback will be out within a month. As for bios in the works, I believe there is one on John Hammond coming up--I was interviewed for it (can't recall the author's name, but he seemed to be on the right track), and I hope George Avakian was, too. I really look forward to Peter Pullman's Powell book, one on Lonnie Johnson being written by Dean Alger, and Robin Kelley's Monk--I don't know if Peter Keepnews has given up on his Monk project, but it would probably be wise for him to do so, because I don't see him busting his father's exaggerations.

That's a scary site, Mike. Is Stanley that much in love with himself or is there a blind, illiterate nut on the loose?

"Ma" Crouch?

Don't give me ideas, Mike!