Christiern

MartyJazz:"Whoa! Gay activity??!!!! Please, does it get any worse than what's already been related on this thread? What's next, pedophilia, cruelty to animals, etc.? I don't think I can take much more." I'm afraid that speaks worse for you than it does for Dizzy, MartyJazz.

Marcello, I also spent time with Dizzy and saw him when he was being very pleasant and humorous. That does not in any way excuse the kind of behavior Val Wilmer described. Let me emphasize that I am not talking about his gay activity--that was his own business and I have not heard of any instance where he forced himself upon a man, but if he did, that was of course also wrong. I have known many artists who had to "put up with a lot of shit from promoters and lames," many who "had to live up to great expectations" and were aware of their place in history, but they did not feel a need to behave in a belligerent, anti-social, hurtful manner. I have had nothing but admiration for Dizzy's artistry since I first hear a recording by him, almost 60 years ago and his boorish behavior has not lessened my enjoyment of his music, so don't feel sorry for me. Pryan is right when he points out that we should not gloss over the truth. I don't care how great Dizzy's music was (and I think it was, indeed, great), going around and cutting people with a knife, sexually abusing others, etc. is abhorrent and inexcusable behavior that ought neither to be tolerated nor kept secret. Artistic talent is not a free pass to depraved conduct.

Anyone catch Dennis Lehane as the property clerk (reading a porno mag) in the last episode? He is one of the season's writers, also author of "Mystic River," etc.

By an odd coincidence, I just got off the phone with a couple of former Gillespie sidemen. I asked them about Dizzy carrying a knife--they said (in chorus, no less) always!. He cut Rodney Jones's hand once, I was told, and when I read them from Val's account, they said it was highly believable. They also told me that Moody carries a knife in his sock--guess he removes it at airports. One of the guys said, "all the old guys carry a knife." That reminded me of the fact that Alberta Hunter used to walk around carrying a shopping bag in each hand, but there was also a cloth in her right hand, and it held an ice pick! Similarly, I was talking to Billie Holiday in her dressing room at Pep's (in Philly) and she showed me a ball of Kleenex tissues on the makeup table--in it was hidden a razor blade. BTW Sidewinder, I do recall Val telling me that Clark Terry was there, being interviewed by a very young Polish guy who had never before been around jazz musicians. His eyes almost popped out of his head, she told me.

... and as Chuck probably knows, the story is even more complex, and ironic.

No! So if you want to do so, please go on ahead! Be careful what you ask for! Here it is, Jim, in Val's own words. This is from her autobiography, Mama said there's be days like this: My Life in the Jazz World, published in 1989. Since they are both deceased, I substituted the names of Dizzy and T-Bone where Val had "Famous Mucisian" (or 'FM') and "Blues Guitar Pioneer" (or 'Mr. Blues'). I know their identities because Val revealed them to me back then. As I recall, Stevie was oner of Val's girlfriends.--Chris A few months after meeting Rex [stewart], I got into a physical fight with a Famous Musician (Dizzy Gillespie). Because my protagonist was and is such an important fugure in the music, the incident is still talked about and I take time to explain what happened only for the reason that historically women have been blamed for many events and situations for which men were actually responsible. Stevie and I were backstage at a concert, sharing a drink with a couple of musicians, one of whom was a blues guitar pioneer (T-Bone Walker). Everyone was accompanied by friends, apart from Dizzy, and I watched him roving around making several attempts to barge into other conversations. Then he lurched over to our table and leered. He said something insulting and T-Bone dismissed it: “Don’t pay him any attention, he’s not worth bothering with.” I had noticed a slight animosity between the two men on stage, Dizzy doing his best to distract attention from T-Bone during his solo spot. It was something he often did. It had earned him a reputation for clowning, although I have yet to meet anyone who worked with him who found the experience of being publicly belittled amusing. I went to the Ladies, emerging to find Dizzy blocking the corridor. I told him to let me through and he immediately abused me, verbally and physically, grabbing me between the legs and squeezing. I was enraged but managed to get past him. Back at the bar, T-Bone asked what had happened. I gave him an edited version and he apologised for his colleague’s behaviour. But the mood of the evening had been spoilt, and we decided to go home. Before leaving, though, I had to speak to another musician. I found him in a nearby large dressing-room, being interviewed. Motioning at him across the room, I backed away, only to collide with a huge punch aimed at my backside. Dizzy had come up behind me, cursing. This time I had had enough. “You do that again and I’ll punch you in your face,” I told him. At this point, Stevie came into the room. Dizzy made a grab for her, screaming about “Fucking bitches!” I gazed in astonishment as he pulled her down by her hair to waist level. There were three other men in the room, but they just froze, open-mouthed. I grabbed Dizzy’s arm and tried to drag him off, but he was a heavy man and wouldn’t be shifted. He was limbering up, drunkenly, with his other fist, so I had no other option but to punch him myself, in the face. With a bull-like roar, he turned on me and sent me flying across the room where I bounced to the floor down a stack of aluminium chairs. In a second, he was astride me, fist raised to strike. One of the onlookers was a local musician who had been drinking. Dizzy was his hero, yet even in his sozzled state, this was too much for him. He helped Stevie pull my assailant away. He staggered to his feet, but I had gone beyond fury by now. I had never really hit anyone before, but now I punched him, as hard as I could. He went sprawling, blood spurted from his nose and his lip. I know I could not have accomplished this pugilistic feat had he been sober, but that left hook stayed notorious for ages. As Dizzy lay on the floor, I looked around and saw T-Bone standing quietly in the doorway. “You women get out of here,” he told us, and we meekly obeyed. He shut the door and waited until the other man rose to his feet. Then, apparently, he knocked him down again. “That’s for hitting those women,” he told him. I found it ironic that the “countryboy” whom Dizzy had so despised should act the “gentleman,” while two other men, one of whom I had once regarded as a friend, looked on and did nothing while we were being attacked. On my way out, I bumped into the concert promoter. I was incoherent and shaking, my shirt sleeve soaked in blood. I shouted at him about what had happened, holding him responsible for conditions backstage. That night, apparently, Dizzy turned up at Ronnie Scott’s Club, waving a knife. He was looking, he said, “for those fucking bitches to cut their ass!” The truth of the incident was obvious to everyone else in the room, but experience had taught me that women were generally “in the wrong when anything untoward happened backstage. I was worried that I might be banned from future events. I took a deep breath and phoned the promoter. To my surprise, he was fairly apologetic, implying that this was not the first time he had had trouble with Dizzy. As the years went by, I assembled an interesting little dossier concerning Dizzy’s appalling behaviour towards women. He appears to delight in indecently assaulting women when their male partner is in the vicinity. Not so long ago, he allegedly punched a woman in the face at a reception in South America, much to the astonishment of the other musicians on the tour. I kept tabs on him mainly for my own amusement, but partly because of the continuing—and tedious—need to justify myself.

I haven't yet read the Shipton book, Does he mention the backstage fist fight between Dizzy and Valerie Wilmer?

I think the title's origin is elementary: If ever there was a series of all-star sessions, Hamp's Victors was it, and one of the tunes (12/20/40) was "Open House."

Absolutely the kind you get from a Copenhagen "pølsevogn." I have had many hot dogs in the U.S., from Coney Island to Venice, CA, but none has compared to a Danish Steffensen or Houlberg street dog. I believe the two companies merged several years ago.

Chris, Are you saying you knew things about Alberta that she wouldn't want published? I suspect this is the case in many autobiographies, in that the author wants their story out there, but maybe not the entire story! Mark Mark, I understand that most of us have aspects of our life, or events, that we would not wish made public. The fact that Alberta was gay is no longer a secret, but it was a well-kept one at the time when she wanted me to write the book. Since it played a part in Alberta's career, I did not think I could simply leave that part of her life out of the story, the way it was done with Langston Hughes and Carl Van Vechten. It's truly a shame that people are so small-minded, but even today, when the closet has opened wider, being gay is unacceptable to many people--the Bush degradation of reasoned thought has not helped, either.

It is difficult, perhaps impossible, to write an honest biography when aspects of the subject's life are held back. It is for this reason that I turned down Alberta Hunter's wish to have me write her biography. I simply knew too much, and, I suspect, the same stands in a Gillespie biographer's way.

In my opinion, HBO's The Wire is one of the best-written, best-acted, most absorbing dramas on television today. Last night's episode--the next to last for this season--was superb, but we lost one of the series' most interesting characters. Anyone else here watch this show?--Chris December 13, 2004 Whacked! Another HBO Main Player Meets His End By LOLA OGUNNAIKE Idris Elba plays Stringer Bell, who was gun- ned down in last night's episode of "The Wire." Fans of HBO's hit crime series "The Wire" may have been shocked off their couches last night when one of the show's main characters, the calculating drug dealer Stringer Bell, was gunned down in a gruesome ambush. But it is unlikely that anyone in the Sunday-night audience was as stunned as Idris Elba, the 32-year-old actor who has brought Stringer to life since "The Wire" began three years ago. "When I first read the script I was like: 'What? No! This isn't supposed to happen,' " Mr. Elba said over dinner at an Upper West Side restaurant. "I was deeply disappointed. It was a surprise, a complete surprise." It is an unusual move to be sure, but one that has become increasingly common on HBO, a network known for unconventional plot twists and bold, can-you-believe-they-did that? surprises. "The Sopranos" has never been shy about doing away with major characters - Big Pussy, Ralphie and Adriana were all killed off. "Deadwood," the drama series set in the lawless West, lost its Wild Bill Hickok. And D'Angelo Barksdale, the young drug-dealing character who carried much of the first season of "The Wire," was strangled in a brutal prison scene. Another prominent "Wire" character, Frank Sobotka, ended up with a tag on his toe after being shot in the second season. "One of the themes of the show is that raw, unencumbered capitalism is not good for anyone," said David Simon, creator and mastermind of "The Wire." "You may get a short run, you may get a long run, but the drug trade is the only thing that's eternal." As a reporter for The Baltimore Sun, Mr. Simon covered the narcotics beat for 15 years. He was the author of the book on which the NBC series "Homicide" was based, as well as co-author of "The Corner: A Year in the Life of an Inner-City Neighborhood," an account of a West Baltimore community dominated by an open-air drug market. "The Corner" became an acclaimed mini-series on HBO in 2000. Mr. Simon said the blueprint for Stringer's death was created two years ago. That the drug dealer became a must-watch figure is of little consequence, he said. "Holding on to a character and then twisting the story to serve the character?" he said. "There's no gratification in that for anyone. We're not doing a soap opera here." Set in the crime-infested streets of Baltimore, "The Wire" centers on a band of big-time drug dealers and the motley crew of cops who are determined to bring them down. Stringer, the refined, upwardly mobile consigliere to the decidedly gangster Avon Barksdale, was intent on becoming a legitimate businessman. He favored starched shirts and understated Italian suits and studied macroeconomics at a community college. In one episode, he ran a meeting with his army of pushers according to Robert's Rules of Order. Mr. Elba, who is far more sensitive than the stoic Stringer, said his last day of work was particularly emotional. Michael K. Williams, who plays Omar Devone Little, the gay, shotgun-toting thug who blasts away Stringer, said: "There were a lot of wet eyes on the set. I just had to keep telling myself that Idris is alive and he has a bright future ahead of him." Fans of the show may be surprised to learn that Mr. Elba is not African American. The only child of a mother from Ghana and father from Sierre Leone, Mr. Elba was born and brought up in Hackney, a working-class borough of London. It is a fact he reluctantly shares with fans, preferring instead to use his American accent when talking with those who request autographs. "Wherever I go the real hard-core dudes come up to me and confide in me," said Mr. Elba, who over the years has been approached by dozens of drug dealers identifying with Stringer. "I almost feel guilty turning around and saying: 'Hello, mate. My name's Idris and I'm from London.' " Mr. Elba burst into an exaggerated version of his cockney accent. "I don't want to break the illusion." It was in an effort to impress an older woman at his all-boys junior high school that Mr. Elba discovered acting. "Ms. McPhee," the actor said wistfully. "Not only was she a great drama teacher, but I had a crush on her." Emboldened by Ms. McPhee, who encouraged him to pursue theater, Mr. Elba enrolled in acting school. He moved to the United States years ago and quickly made it his mission to master an American accent. "No point in being here if I couldn't do that," Mr. Elba said. While his peers bussed tables and tended bar, Mr. Elba worked as a D.J. at Manhattan nightspots like Madame X to pay his bills. After being passed over for a supporting role in the buppie romantic comedy "Brown Sugar," Mr. Elba landed his part on "The Wire." Despite now being out of a steady gig, Mr. Elba has managed to remain busy. In recent months, he has become quite a man about town, hopping from soiree to soiree. "Apparently Puffy is a huge fan of the show and he called me personally and invited me to his birthday party the other day," Mr. Elba said, referring to the music mogul Sean Combs. "Puffy is huge in England." When not hobnobbing with the hip-hop cognoscenti, Mr. Elba continues to D.J. at New York City lounges under the moniker "Big Driis the Londoner." The self-professed "music nerd" called D.J.-ing his first love. Late one recent evening, Mr. Elba headed to Bombay Palace, an Indian restaurant in Midtown, where he played tracks ranging in flavor from garage to old school R&B. Though there were few in attendance, Mr. Elba, happily in his own world, did not seem to notice. His next project is the HBO movie "Sometimes in April," about the Rwandan genocide. It is scheduled to be shown in March. In the film, Mr. Elba plays a Hutu soldier married to a Tutsi wife. Their family is torn apart by the 1994 genocide that claimed more than 800,000 lives. A majority of the film's crew were native Rwandans, and Mr. Elba's eyes filled with tears when he recounted their stories. "My driver's whole family was murdered right before his eyes and he had to pretend like he was dead," Mr. Elba said. "These people were hacked to death with machetes. Everyone knew this was happening and nobody did anything. It's for the sake of these people that I'm proud to be associated with this film." Mr. Elba moves to more lighthearted fare in the movie "Johnny Was," an action thriller about an Irish freedom fighter who flees to England in search of a new life. He won't have to do much research for this effort, which is scheduled to be released next year. "I'm playing another drug dealer, but this time," Mr. Alba said with a chuckle, "he has a British accent."

I think "as told to" is more appropriate...at least it ought to be.

Lil was born in Memphis, Bessie in Chattanooga--you were right the first time.

How old were you when that was taken? Let's just say that it was long before I graduated from the Michael Jackson Institute of Enlightenment. But let's see if anyone can come up with a correct answer. After all, there is a very good clue below the photo.

And who do you suppose this baby is?

Hey, weizen, have you started reading the book you found on the Metro?

Well, when I was growing up in Iceland... Never mind, we did eventually import saws.

"Cosmic Saddam Husseins," I like that! This, too: "Another landmark was his 1984 "The Presumption of Atheism," playing off the presumption of innocence in criminal law. Flew said the debate over God must begin by presuming atheism, putting the burden of proof on those arguing that God exists. "

Chuck, I'll get you for this!

All kidding aside, Phil, I'll be rooting for you. And remember, an award tucked away does your career no good. Whether you win or not, you have to capitalize on it while it's fresh. I think I mention how a friend of mine (Geoffrey Holder) took his Tony award straight to a PR person and landed several jobs as a result of the publicity, one of which paid the PR person's fee. The rest of the Tony-winning cast (we're talking WIZ here) had a good old time celebrating, but there was no boost to their career.

And look at it this way, Phil... Even if you don't win, you don't lose! There is always the non-winner nomination pendant! (the shine has given way to a charming patina) Do they expect us to wear these things????

That's great, B3-er! Love it! In fact, I'll drink to that...

Hey, that's an idea--I've got a pair--how much am I bid? CONGRATULATIONS, PHIL!

A friend of mine who is in the film (Larry Johnson) told me that Scorcese paid everyone equally. He was pleasantly surprised to find himself getting the same amount as B.B. King. I haven't seen the film yet, but it is on my list of things to view.