How did the book event go; the one you signed the book plates for? When you mentioned your rival, I thought about sending you a copy of Clive James’ classic poem, “The Book of My Enemy has been Remaindered,” but I couldn’t find a copy.
Good luck on the book. If you have your author photo taken while lying down (with the photog standing over you), it’ll take care of the double chin. Otherwise, just keep looking up!
Pesch
PS: Katharine just has a urinary tract infection. Stand down to code blue.
Welcome back, Eve! Your inimitable presence has been missed.
And FTR, you always remind me MUCH more of Roz Russell enchanting Cary Grant in “His Gal Friday”: just as bright, just as charming, just as tough and a helluva writer to boot.
Veb
P.S. Was Kay Kendall the one who married Rex Harrison and lived to regret it?
Yes!
::veers happily off topic::
The man was a charmless Noel Coward wannabe whose impeccable tailoring couldn’t disguise the fact that he left slime trails.
You women!
So catty! So cliquish! So unforgiving!
…Why can’t a woman be more like a man?
Men are so honest, so thoroughly square
Eternally noble, historically fair
Who when you win will always give your back a pat
Why can’t a woman be like that?
Why does ev’ryone do what the others do?
Can’t a woman learn to use her head?
Why do they do everything their mothers do?
Why don’t they grow up like their father instead?
Why can’t a woman take after a man?
Men are so pleasant, so easy to please
Whenever you’re with them, you’re always at ease
Why can’t a woman…
[trying mightily to bring the conversation back up to a higher level]
Yes indeedy, Kay Kendall was that elegantly equine beauty who married Rex Harrison (“the bastard of all time,” as Kay’s sister calls him). The one and only noble thing Rex ever did was marry Kay when he found out she had leukemia and take care of her till she died—his way of making up for egging Carole Landis to kill herself back in '48.
I got the rough draft done this weekend! Now (if the goddam photocopier at work ever gets fixed!) I’ll send it off to Kay’s sister, and to some British friends who will comb it over for “American mistakes.”
Chair—I did get a wee little Peterman catalog, but it didn’t have any of those luscious suits and skirts I loved so much. Poor schmoe, I doubt he’ll be able to resurrect his company.
Pesch—Dunno how the book event went; I should call to find out. I did appear on a radio show Saturday night to plug that same book, which was fun. Had people calling in with questions and everything!
You might want to check last week’s messages – someone was asking about female silent movie stars and we were tripping over each other to try and make up for your absence. But now I realize the futility of it all.
Kay Kendall. hmmmmmm, Kay Kendall, rings a little tiny bell. Didn’t I once read someone’s comment that she looked Pretty Darn Good in “Quentin Durward”?
Intrigued me enough that I’ve kinda been keeping an eye out for the movie…