Christiern

104th St and Central Park West, Chris? Guess ole Weizy isn't quite right, putting you as a high rent midtown kinda guy ... True, Dan, but apartments in my building are going for as much as 3 million--and one of our doormen was wearing a genuine Rolex the other day, it flashed in the sun as he waved his chauffeur over at quittin' time. A block north of me lies an interesting building from 1884. Its architecture is based on a French chateau and it was built by John Jacob Astor as New York's first cancer hospital (the genesis of Sloan-Kettering). It has been declared a landmark building and has undergone complete renovation to soon open as an apartment residence. The cost of these units is in the millions, so I guess the old neighborhood (where I have stayed put since 1963) is being positively luxuriated! Check it out on this picture. I took it last August, from the roof of my building. That new tall building on the left is part of the complex. Here's more on my new/old neighbor.

I love them, Phil. Hate to say it, but mine is 23"! But they are great, I love the fact that I can view two pages of text side by side.

I only expect the lady and the sixth man from the left to be known to anyone here, but I will identify all when the time comes. BTW The photo was taken by Pfc Bernard Levy if the Signal Section, 2nd LOG. COMD. It is not, I believe to be found in the recently widely discussed Frank Driggs collection of questionable acquisitions.

How about this one, taken in Korea on October 31, 1952?

I'm 32 blocks north of the Dakota.

Sorry, the beneath the clock space is reserved for a foreign despot.

Can we settle for a picture of my computorium? After all, this is where I spend much of my time when not rummaging through my closets.

Ron S., your best guess is correct--I live on Central Park West. Here's another shot.

...and this is what greeted me this morning (Sat. 03-12-05):

Here are a couple of photos I took from my window. The first was at sunset on the day before yesterday...

No, Allen, it turned out to be an invoice!

I prefer my rust pattern....

But, of course, if you have common sense, you also have a Mac on which a shift-command-N produces a new folder.

And even if the did profit--so what? I commend them for not taking an offer from what sounds like a greedy sleazebag, but I would see nothing wrong with them recouping some of their expenses.

Here's a closeup...

Here it is Sunday again, and last Sunday was to have been the day the Gates closed, so to speak. Most are actually gone, but there is still a sprinking of saffron to be seen. The ones in this photo (from last Wednesday) are gone, but I rather liked the sign, which I hope can be read.

Leon was absolutely fair. I would only sell him an album if he also replaced it with a better (usually Japanese) pressing, which he always did.

No wonder Leon made so many trips to my apartment, and no wonder he was so eager. Can't cry over spilled milk, however.

I thought it might be interesting dedicate a thread to things we come across while rummaging through a closet, reaching into the back of a drawer, emptying a shoe box, etc. My two favorite largely unsung jazz legends were Elmer Snowden and Sam Wooding, so I was delighted to come across this note (from 1973, I believe) while going through stacks of papers:

Duncan Schiedt - Frank Driggs No comparison.

Perhaps Time, Inc. or the Schomburg Collection could make a bid for the Driggs collection and thus return a lot of pictures to their files.

Sounds like a book worth skipping. Who wrote the review? Stein and Day, my original publisher for "Bessie," contracted Linda Kuehl to do the Billie book shortly after I signed with them. Sol Stein called and asked me if I would mind helping Linda get started on her research, show her my method, etc. Out of that grew a friendship. Linda really wanted this to be the definitive Billie biography, and she threw herself into the research with enviable zeal and energy. She made trips to the West Coast, Baltimore, and any place where she might obtain fresh information. Several times a week, she called to tell me of some extraordinary interview or something she had come across. There were times when she actually placed herself in danger, but drug-infested Baltimore or LA neighborhoods never slowed her down. One of her remarkable finds was a small plastic disc from one of those coin-operated recording booths one found on 42nd Street in those days. On it was Billie's voice, singing "Come All Ye Faithful" to herself. She was obviously high and I don't think I have ever heard anything quite that sad--even from Billie. Eventually, as Linda dug deeper, it took her to the business aspect of Billie's career. I think we all know that Billie, like so many other artists, was financially short-changed (to put it politely), but even with that knowledge, Linda was shocked and dismayed to discover the extent to which Billie had been ripped off. It also surprised her to find that greatly admired movers and shakers in the jazz business were as callous and greedy as anyone else. But Linda kept digging, and it got to the point where she was receiving gentle threats. She started recording her telephone conversations (I recall Lenny Bruce doing the same thing) and she played one for me--it was a Damon Runyon-type of voice strongly urging her to "stick to the music and leave the business side alone." I had seen some pieces written by Linda before she took on this project, and she was a decent writer, but the Billie Holiday experience was beginning to unravel her. Her calls to me were now often in whispers, and even when she came to my apartment, she spoke as if someone might be eavesdropping. When Peter Pullman told me that he need a writer to annotate a Holiday Verve reissue, I unhesitatingly recommended Linda. The notes, I thought, would be terrific and full of new material. Imagine my surprise when they turned out to be quite pedestrian--bordering on boring. Linda was clearly having a hard time and she eventually told me as much--writing had become a torturous task, she said, asking me to look over a finished chapter. Sad to say, it was also a torturous read, and I told her so, making some suggestions. By this time, Linda had switched publishers. I had expressed my dissatisfaction with Stein & Day and she decided to buy back her contract and go with a better house--which she managed to do. I don't know how much the writer of the Kirkus piece knows about Linda's research, but the "shortfalls" he mentions are probably unfair. Linda worked very hard and she found things that had escaped the rest of us, but she had not completed her research when she died, allegedly at her own hand. I, too, like the Donald Clarke book and agree that it is not the last word. When Linda's sister called me to for advice on what to do with the research material, I recommended that she put it away and not give anyone access until the publisher (Harper & Row, I think) made a decision. They had, after all, paid for the research. A couple or more years later, I received a call from Toby Byron, who was looking for Billie material. I will always regret steering him to Linda's sister. I don't know how much he paid for it, but he ended up with all of it--and, based on subsequent personal experience with Byron, I wouldn't be surprised if Linda's sister is still waiting for payment. Finally, when Linda started the project, her knowledge of jazz was severely limited, but her love for it was genuine and I thought that love, combined with her determination to write a well-researched biography would yield a desirable result. Linda was amassing a lot of material, but she had yet to get a grip on the environment that produced jazz and Billie. I am sure her writing reflected that shortcoming--what little I saw, did--so if Julia Blackburn has limited insight, I can imagine how she must have compounded the gaps left by Linda. The people who took financial advantage of Billie may not have physically pushed Linda off that hotel window ledge in Washington, D.C., but they surely pulled an emotional trigger. I still miss Linda and hate to see her work abused by incompetent writers.

Who complained and what was the nature of the complaint? I hope it wasn't because I told the truth about Frank's collection methods.

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You're both wrong. My book shows his compassionate side. It's called: "Nice pictures--go ahead, have a last look."