G. William Miller - Investment Advice from the Treasury Secretary

Legal Tender for All Debts

My favorite mentor is Mike Cardozo, a super gentleman, successful and principled by anyone's standards, who took an interest in me when I was a fun-loving and apparently undisciplined youth in the early 1980's.  We were colleagues for a while at CTM, Mike's stopover between serving as White House counsel on telecommunications to Jimmy Carter, and a long career as a merchant banker.

Cardozo: Prime Mover.  Porter: Disciple.

In the mid 1980's, Mike associated with his Carter administration buddy, 65th Treasury Secretary G. William Miller, and David Rubinstein's wife Alice Rogoff, in the formation of GWM & Associates.  When I was sorely in need of professional advice, I'd pop over to GWM and Mike would take me to the Palm, to impart brutal wisdom (such as "What you need is Officer's Candidate School, Porter!  A little discipline would do you good!").

Gee - The Real William Miller

I got to meet the Secretary several times and, when he was out, used his office on a few occasions to make calls while Mike wound up his pre-lunch meetings.  Miller was debonair, and kind enough to make small talk with me and toss funny ideas around such as those pitched by entrepreneurs who had ideas on re-fitting an extrusion facility in Cleveland, or wanted GWM to bankroll the growing of hydroponic Belgian endive in the US, or the character who was going to teach the Chinese to eat cheese.

The punchline to this story is that, although I toiled in the TV and new media vineyards for several years, I eventually found myself handling finance and investment clients, including a series of engagements for the World Bank and International Finance Corporation (during the James Wolfensohn era).  On one of these projects in 2004, my client called me and my team in for a presentation to the CEO.  My two associates on the project (a major real estate developer and a marketer) were both named "Bill Miller" - but neither one was the Bill Miller of Carter heyday.  Bizarre....  There were chortles and bon mots around the executive table, which I relayed to Mike, and he to GWM.

Secretary Miller passed away in 2006.  Some say he had the strong hand as Fed Chairman in the onset of '70's stagflation in the US economy.  More successful was his subsequent Treasury role in the Chrysler bailout.  No matter - In our paths-crossings, he was solicitous beyond anything that was called for, and had real class.

Consciousness-Raising with Ted Turner

Ted Turner believes that men should be barred from holding elected position for the next one hundred years.  I guess he now feels that women are suited to positions of true professional and public leadership.  Nice to see Ted's thinking on the matter has "evolved."

Sail On, Sailor

In February of 1985, I helped my boss, President of the Washington DC chapter of Women in Cable, organize a luncheon speech that Ted headlined, where he proceeded to lecture the assembled 95%+ female crowd:

"Can't believe these girls down at CNN who go out an' have a baby and then want to come back to work after two weeks, put that little baby with a nanny?!?  It's crazy!  Now it's a fact, a proven FACT, that a baby needs its mother's love - not its father's love, not "a Parent's" love - its Mother's love!  Mama's gotta stay home with that baby!"  One of the professional ladies present politely cleared her throat and said, "Excuse me, Mr. Turner, but I would hope that - at least after they have borne a child - you would refer to these female employees of yours as 'women,' not 'girls.' "

"Naaaah, now, listen, Honey...  lemme explain..."  (Collective gasp and disintegration of crowd).  I admired his confident, self-destructive impulse.

But we'd met before.  In 1982 I was writing business plans at CTM for pay-TV sports networks, and we were trying to package a roll-up of all the regionals into SSN, the Super Sports Network.  Ted was then at war with acting Commissioner of MLB Bud Selig because of the rogue move of pulling his games out of the MLB network TV deal to feed his own channel.  We thought, correctly, that he was likely to opt out of SSN (as would the Cubs and Mets, building similar superstation deals with WGN and WOR respectively); nevertheless, Turner and our CEO Bob Schmidt were old jock buddies and Ted came by our offices in McLean, VA to learn more about the SSN plans.

Ted strolled into Bob's corner office, and I wandered by.  "Porter, get in here!" yelled Bob.  "Got someone I want you to meet!"  He introduced me to Captain Outrageous, telling him I was an up and coming second baseman or some such nonsense.  We yukked it up a bit and then Bob said to Ted, "I had your friend Bud in here last week," and pointed at the desk, where a new Rawlings baseball sat on a display stand.  Ted stared at it, scowled, picked it up an tossed it a few times in the air.

Commish Strikethrough

"Gotta pen?"  Bob pulled the Mont Blanc from his shirt pocket.  Ted grabbed it, boldly slashed a line through Bud Selig's autograph, signed his own, and handed the ball back to Bob.

In a later life, Ted launched our National Geographic EXPLORER series on TBS where it anchored the Sunday evening prime-time block, and he supported it generously for many years, always taking a personal interest, joining (and commandeering) the quarterly planning meetings, and treating us to CNN studio tours he personally led, and to Braves and Hawks tickets whenever we came to town.  He loved National Geographic like a young Indiana Jones.

Only women in elected office?  Maybe ol' Jane Fonda got through to him.

Glamour and Boldness - A Pairing That No One Could Have Predicted

Big Apple Dreamin' - On Tour with Alice Cooper

I've just finished reading Louder Than Hell, and it's a great book - as the cover blurb attests:

"THE BOOK EVERY METAL FAN SHOULD OWN" - Alice Cooper.

The authors employ first-person accounts to trace the evolutionary history of Metal from progenitors Blue Cheer, Mountain and Black Sabbath through the later strands of heavy-, NWOBH-, glam-, thrash-, industrial-, nu-, speed-, death-, dark-, black-, and dork-metal (plus hardcore and metalcore).

"I looked around and I noticed that everyone I was trying to be like was dead.  I went, 'I get it. Alice has got to be one thing. And I've got to be another.  I can't co-exist with Alice; Alice has to be a character I play onstage.'  When the curtain comes down, he doesn't really want to live my life, and I don't want to live his. He lives two hours a night on stage.  He doesn't play golf, he doesn't want to be married, he doesn't want children.  He doesn't like anything except what he does onstage, and you leave him up there.  To this day, we have a great relationship."

Vincent Furnier/Alice Cooper,

Louder Than Hell

!t Books, (C) 2013

In LTH, Alice Cooper earns Founding Father status for his early incorporation of dark on-stage symbology and theatrical make-up, both so widely and persistently imitated as to have become iconic.

Motif # 1

In early July, 1997 I was on business in NYC and staying at the Righa Royal Hotel on West 54th.  Waiting in the lobby for a colleague before heading out in suit & tie to the first meeting of the day, I was seated with Wall Street Journal in hand as Alice emerged from the elevator and walked briskly across the diagonal to the front door.

We shared the lobby for all of 5 seconds.  I instinctively dropped the Journal and rose from my chair.

Maybe I Scared Him . . .

Now, in the late 70's my college band got a lot of mileage out of playing School's Out every spring, blasting away on the quad following the last day of classes.  Naturally, I tried to yell out "School's Out!" but - in the excitement - could only produce a very loud and unintelligible grunt: "HHhnhguuhyaugghhnnt!"  If you've ever heard the Derek and Clive routine wherein Peter Cook describes the sound made by a rival fan whom he claims to have kicked "square in the bollocks!" at an Arsenal-Spurs game, that's the sound I made .  Maybe not unlike what Alice is used to hearing from the louts and punters 20-deep at the front in a general admission show.

He looked up, smiled and raised an eyebrow at me as he reached for the revolving door and exited into the New York City summer sunshine.

I like to think that he's wondered from time to time who that obstreporous clod in the suit was.

"Skyscrapers and subways and stations
Staring up at the United Nations

New York is waiting for you and me, baby
Waiting to swallow us down
New York, we're coming to see what you're made of ... "

Alice Cooper, 1972

Big Apple Dreamin

Also Part of the Scene:
Took A Trip In A Gemini Spacecraft: My Hollywood Dinner with Bowie and Iman.

Jonathan Bennett - Teen Heartthrob Sighting on Nantucket

Smooth Operator Bennett w/Juice Guys Smoothie in Hand

Last evening on Main Street, we stumbled upon a swarm of giggling, swooning young girls and then emerged from the scrum Jonathan Bennett - better (best?) known as Aaron Samuels, Lindsay Lohan's love interest in Mean Girls (2004).

You remember the "pencil" scene, don't you?

A "Teen Choice Award" nominee, co-star of Amanda Bynes as well as Ms. Lohan and - by virtue of his turn in Mean Girls - a permanent stimulus to young girls everywhere, Johnathan was followed up and down the cobblestones by a pack of groupies.

the Rocky Road to Stardom

And OMG my intrepid twelve year old - like a moth to the flame - led the pack (though she worried she might be 'stalking').

... like father, like daughter!!  :-)

My Brother, Mr. Mouth-to-Mouth - Scot Samis

If you are preparing for summer beach action and looking for a good kick in the rear, check out or "NetFlix" (verb) the film "Summer Rental," a low-budget early-'80's Rob Reiner gem.  John Candy stars, Rip Torn chews the scenery, and Richard Crenna is riveting as the jackass One-Pecenter whose greed and venality might scuttle Air Traffic Controller Candy's family vacation.

The film was shot in the Tampa/St. Pete basin and needed local talent for extras, so my college buddy Scot Samis, then earning a law degree at Stetson, answered the call of duty.  He so impressed Reiner and crew that they gave him a name ("Russ" rather than Lifeguard #1, #2, ...), wrote him a few lines and bumped him to talking head of the otherwise interchangeable and mute tribe of spear-carrier lifeguards who inhabit the group house next to Candy ("Jack Chester")'s rental.

Mr. Mouth-to-Mouth, Scot Samis, Esq. as "Russ"

Scot's moment in the summer sun comes when he and the gang of roommates charge out of their rental, underneath a jockstrap-festooned clothesline, and he stays behind to meet underage neighbor daughter Jennifer Chester.  The exchange mesmerizes daughter (and provides bedevilment for old dad Jack) when - carrying an inflatable doll - Russ explains that the lifeguards refer to him as "Mr. Mouth to Mouth."

Scot is now a respected lawyer in St. Petersburg, FL.  Well, I still respect him; while presenting a paper recently on "preserving error in the trial court for review on appeal," his wag colleagues unspooled a few choice scenes from Summer Rental on the screen behind him, to prank our unwitting barrister.

His recollections today nearly as crisp as the events were during that "busy" time, Scot shared this with me:

As for an anecdote ... the one that sticks with me is when John Candy, knowing I was a local, told me that he was going on the Pritikin Diet and wanted to go out for one last night of indulgence.  I suggested "Watership Down," a local bar that had a popular reggae band.   He was a classic, big-man raver in the Steel (RIP) tradition - - bellowing at the top of his lungs, buying drinks and even getting up on stage and singing a tune with the band.  I know this is a pretty mundane story, but it was nice to see that he was a good guy.

A Stroll Up-Hill

I'd never refer to him this way today, but I'm proud to recall Scot as my "Little Brother," as he was during the pledging and initiation period of early 1978. Now that he's a big shot, we grateful, aging New Englanders occasionally get to head south for a weekend of nightspot-hopping, and a full battery of Red Sox/Rays games courtesy of the law firm's excellent box seats.

And if I ever find myself in the Pinellas County clink, I have a friend to call....

Goodtime Academic Community Nonsense!

In our little college town, the Candy-colored clowns at the local bakery/coffeshop put on a Candy Symposium during inter-semester break a year ago, and I urged them to include Summer Rental.  We argued over the counter about whether Uncle Buck really topped Summer Rental, and although I think I knew better, the baker held the programmer's lever and proceeded as he wished.

Maybe next semester!

In Love? with Sharyl Attkisson

Sharyl Attkisson Kozaki

She came to visit us at Discovery Channel when we were nobodies, and she was in her first (CNN) correspondent job, before then making her way with the big networks.

Hillary Rodham Clinton

Now, Sharyl Attkisson's longtime employer CBS News is "irked" by her aggressive coverage on Benghazi, of which the White House and the HRC 2016 Election Committee are understandably wary.


Although we did not undertake any journalistic projects with Sharyl at the time, nor later, then (1991), she certainly made an impression.  Friends Steve Cheskin, Danny Salerno and Mark Kozaki in particular behaved as though they were smitten with Sharyl, almost to point of incapacitation.  Intrepid Mark petitioned her later at her CNN offices for pictures, and we all received them by mail with gracious thank you notes.

For all I know....

George Schultz: Marking History with the Secretary of State

NOT EVER

In May, 1993 (Bush 41 administration) as my wife and I waited with hundreds of others in line to enter the brand-newly opened Holocaust Museum, we had our line cut by statesman and former Reagan-era Secretary of State George Schultz.  Schultz had done a solid job as Secretary of State, supporting a president with an ambitious agenda for world change, at an important time, and was now between assignments.

We'd arrived early to be admitted when the doors opened.  It was about 20 minutes to opening time when up to the curb pulled a big black town car.  Out popped a couple of muscle-men, one springing to the door handle to release Schultz who strode purposefully right past us and into the museum.  What I recall was the brilliant shine of his black power-shoes.  He stomped right by and into the museum, getting a twenty minute head start on We, The Rabble.

. . . ?

The museum was then - and is now - a breathtaking monument to human strength, faith, soul, and perseverance.  I recommend it to anyone unafraid to confront the worst, and eager to be uplifted by the best, in human nature.

One of the memorable exhibits is a railroad transport car, through which one passes to enter a huge space that is overfilled with the confiscated shoes salvaged by the Nazis from the victims they murdered.  The room in which this huge trove of shoes was piled smelled of leather and death; it was overpowering.  Never Again.

We have come a long way in this country and the world, with Holocaust scholarship.

I feel privileged to live now in a town with a university that supports the endeavor of Holocaust study with the resources and collection of the recently opened the Institute for Holocaust, Genocide and Memory Studies.

I never got to speak with Mr. Secretary - he blew right by us.  But twenty years later, I still recall the impression that his shoes left.

George Schultz

Swing Time in the NBC Commissary with Betty Furness

Dapper Fred, Glamorous Betty

She danced with Fred "Lucky Garnet" Astaire (Swing Time, 1936), and had a good run in the 30's as an RKO contract player. 

But by the time I came along, Betty Furness had served as a consumer protection advocate in the Johnson administration, and had become well-known for consumer affairs reporting on NBC, alongside of - and sometimes substituting for - Barbara Walters.

In the late 1970's, Betty's reporting for NBC was appearing regularly on both the nightly news and the Today Show.

Once at that time, during the college spring break holiday, with brothers and cousin I was visiting my uncle whose office at NBC sat high above the skating rink at Rockefeller Center.

NBC Reports: Furness on Chemicals in Food, Sept. 8, 1976

We marveled at Uncle Tony's executive suite complete with shower, snagged tickets to sit in the audience for Saturday Night Live (host: Christopher Lee, musical guest: Meatloaf), and then headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

Now, the NBC Commissary has been the setting, or itself the butt, of many, many jokes dating back to The Tonight Show and Laugh-In, and the tradition had been perpetuated on SNL.  So we felt excited just to be allowed in there!

A Thermometer for French Fries?

We had just settled in with our lunch-room trays, when Tony pointed out the elegant and proper looking woman at the next table as Betty Furness.  She was eating a healthy, responsible meal of cottage cheese and fruit and she eyed us and our plates of fries with a bit of disdain.

We didn't think much about it at the time, and she thought even less about us I suppose.  But how many women can say they've danced with Fred Astaire?  If I'd only known it at the time, I'd have shaken her hand....

On Air with Tom Chapin

"The World, and All That Is In It"

When I was an un-sullied lad, running business affairs for National Geographic TV, I had an assignment to set up our new production office at 1630 Broadway in Times Square.  I hopped many Eastern Shuttles, learned to eat sushi that winter, and scouted the grimy pre-Giuliani splendor of the 'hood.

We had launched National Geographic EXPLORER on Nickelodeon in 1985, then moved it to WTBS before a year was out.  At that juncture, we dropped hired-gun spokesmodel David Greenan and chose personable, charismatic Tom Chapin to host the 8-10pm Sunday night magazine-format show.  Tom would eventually be succeeded by Robert Urich, and later Bob Ballard.

Tom Chapin of Nat Geo Explorer

I got to meet Tom several times in the studio between 1986-1988, and he's a great guy.  Make a Wish!

You will be relieved to learn that letters written to National Geographic Society during the roaring '80's always received close and respectful attention, and wide circulation among the department heads.  Once early in Tom's tenure, for fun, I wrote a letter - in the voice of an earnest but cranky and befuddled National Geographic member - to Society President Gil Grosvenor complaining that "your immoral Tom Chapin" had been drunk on the air.

"My wife and I are Tee-Totalers!" I wrote.  "Disgraceful - by the end of the show, he Had The Glass Right There On The Desk Next To Him!  Never will we watch your degrading 'television show' ever again!"  I used a friend's home address in Hollywood, and posted the letter from L.A. while on a business trip.  Sure enough, a week later that letter came in the front door of the TV Division with stern instructions from the President that we review every minute of that program and "Get me an answer!"  We cleared it, and we told Gil "it must have been some crackpot...."

Clean-living Tom Chapin, deservedly, sailed through unblemished.

 * * * * *

Tom and Harry (whose hunger I satisfied) were brotherly collaborators.  From Circle newsletter:

Like most of Harry's songs, “Circle,” the one that became known as the “Chapin national anthem,” has a story behind it. When Tom Chapin was hired to host the weekly ABC Television children’s show "Make a Wish" in the Summer of 1971, the show consisted of two word topics in each episode like "fire" and "wind." They were looking for a songwriter to write a song for each word, helping to bring each word to life in a way that would be meaningful and appealing to kids.

Tom immediately recommended Harry for the job and the producers agreed. This was the year when Harry had gotten back into music and had created his first band with John Wallace, Ron Palmer, and Tim Scott. He was opening for his brothers’ band, "The Chapins," with Steve and Tom Chapin, and Phil Forbes and Doug Walker, who later became Harry's lead guitarist, every weekend at a club in Greenwich Village called The Village Gate. So writing songs for "Make A Wish," although very lucrative for him, was far down in the list of Harry's commitments.

One week the word was circle, and Harry still had not written the song—the night before the episode’s taping. "After the gigs at the Gate, we usually met, ate, and rehashed the evening at Maria's Diner in Brooklyn Heights," said Tom. "It was late Sunday night, and we were going to be shooting the episode for "Circle" early on Monday morning, and he promised me he'd have it done. So at 6:00 a.m. Harry called me and played the first verse and chorus over the phone while I took down words and scratched out the tune." Hours later Tom performed "Circle" for the first time on camera, walking around the Cinderella fountain in New York City's Central Park.

For a while it was only the first verse and chorus that existed. "Then our mother told Harry it was great song, and he ought to write some other verses. He did--and it became a signature Chapin song. All these years later, we still sing the song at concerts, weddings, funerals, and people all over the world love and sing that song."

Secretary of State Comity Club

The U.S. Senate Foreign Relations Committee, before which John Kerry appeared as a war protester in 1971, and of which he most recently has served as Chairman, today confirmed him in a comity vote as U.S. Secretary of State. 

The nomination will now go to the full Senate for another comity vote.

Electras wild-man bass player John Kerry (standing, left of drummer) - St. Paul's Academy, Concord NH, 1961

If you believe in diplomacy, then U.S. Secretary of State is a pretty influential role on the world stage.  I hope our next Secretary of State John Kerry, with whom I dined in style one evening, has as much success and influence as did Reagan Chief of Staff and G.H.W. Bush Secretary of State James Baker, with whom I attended church services, in his day (1989-1992).

With a reeeeeaaaal stretch, one could argue that Katherine Harris has been the most influential SOS in recent history - as the fifty State Secretaries of State each get to count the votes in their own state.  And after our history together, she's still my favorite among the three...

Mary Schapiro, My Favorite Commissioner

I normally don't call attention to a friendship with someone who's currently in a position of truly extraordinary importance, ... as my associations with some of the other notorious among the Celebrity tapestry could present them with - by what mathematicians call the associative property - a disastrous public liability!  But now that Mary Schapiro has resigned as Chairman of the SEC I can safely reveal that we are friends, and through the most political of Washington connections: the sleepovers, trick-or-treat nights, and classroom hi-jinks of our schoolgirl daughters.

Supply/Demand: D.C. Cupcake Wars

Mary and I were soccer side-liners for years and years as our girls were growing up.  We did our part in the school pageants, fundraisers and field days, and the girls got hula lessons at Mary's house one wild afternoon.  The year that I was a "classroom parent" (don't ever sign up for more than one tour of such duty, please!), we arranged for Ms. Mackie's 5th grade class to venture forth on a field trip from DC to NY, where Mary hosted them at her FINRA offices and arranged a bell-ringing at the stock exchange.  

Here's what Mary looks like when she's about to serve you a designer cupcake.  Or, in my case, two:

She's done a fantastic job getting the SEC back on solid footing.  I did have occasion to visit the SEC on business twice during Mary's tenure (although one of those times she had to duck out for an emergency summons to speak with friends in Congress), and I came away with greater respect for the work and mission of the institution, and of course reinforcement of the deep good feelings I already had toward my friend.  I'm due back there next month and I'll really miss her!

Power Play: look for six at the Sands Casino's high-stakes Texas Hold 'em table: Christina Romer, Paul Volcker, Dan Mudd, Tura Satana, Mary and me . . . !

Surf's Up: on the Flight Deck with Brian Wilson

The one and only, the great Brian Wilson.

In 1994, I was being recruited for a CEO job with Luna Imaging, an L.A.-based start-up with Getty funding.  Before my visit to meet the entrepreneur, when I would stay at Shutters on the Beach and get the pitch, I first snuck out to the coast for a screening meeting during a half-day stop-over in LAX with Gary Hromadko, the VC backing the venture.

We met in the American Airlines Ambassador Lounge and sat in the big lounge chairs.  There, sunk comfortably into a huge chair ten feet away with a confidante?  Brian Wilson!

Although I'd resisted my band-mate Dave's proselytizing in college about the Beach Boys, I eventually could admit I admired Brian - much more for his ballads than for the Beach Boy surf rave-ups.  Especially because he was secure enough, whole enough (or crazy enough?) to write and sing with great emotional vulnerability about fear, and alone-ness, and crying, and doubt, and hurt - in songs like "In My Room,"  "Girl Don't Tell Me,"  "Caroline, No" and " 'Til I Die."

Brian Wilson at the Bridge - on Sunset

Flash forward to 1994 and by this point in my life, I was a confirmed fan, but had not yet developed a complete appreciation for Brian's production genius that would be fulfilled when I came late to Pet Sounds, and - finally - when SMiLE finally had its 38-years-late release.  Still I felt I had a kindred spirit in that he was the only other person I knew of who admired and openly praised the Four Freshmen - to others they were Squaresville, 'though not to me, and Brian has always honored them as his harmonic inspiration.

Perfect Pitch

Gary and I spent a little over two hours talking.  Sometime before we wrapped up, Brian and his friend stood up, shook hands and parted.  As he walked away from us, I thought of the anonymous silhouettes, receding against the day-glo horizon, in the classic key-art poster from the Bruce Brown film "Endless Summer."

I was too awe-struck, and too much captive of the interview moment, to get up and introduce myself.  But I felt the warmth of his sun* ... and knew I'd now truly been in California!

Precision Genius

 . . . "Lately, I'd been depressed and preoccupied with death...Looking out toward the ocean, my mind, as it did almost every hour of every day, worked to explain the inconsistencies that dominated my life; the pain, torment, and confusion and the beautiful music I was able to make. Was there an answer? Did I have no control? Had I ever? Feeling shipwrecked on an existential island, I lost myself in the balance of darkness that stretched beyond the breaking waves to the other side of the earth. The ocean was so incredibly vast, the universe was so large, and suddenly I saw myself in proportion to that, a little pebble of sand, a jellyfish floating on top of the water; traveling with the current I felt dwarfed, temporary. The next day I began writing "'Til I Die", perhaps the most personal song I ever wrote for The Beach Boys...In doing so, I wanted to re-create the swell of emotions that I'd felt at the beach the previous night."

'Til I Die - Surf's Up, 1971

* Something interesting here.

Julius Lester - Cupid and an Early Valentine

"We are only human. We make mistakes. We oft times do not know what we are 
doing, or why. We hurt each other out of the depths of hurts whose pain we have 
not felt. This is what it means to be human - to love each other in our 
mistakes, our hurting each other, and in the darkness that is always present."

Journal,  1978 

Remarkable Julius Lester

In Amherst, MA we have a marvelous, unique and incredibly creative man, a  man who has sought to understand human struggle - political, social, private and emotional - and documented it with force, feeling, and amazing tenderness.  He is Julius Lester.

New School professor, distinguished UMass faculty icon; folksinger, board member 1965 Newport Folk Festival; photo documentarian of the US civil rights movement (here's a great interview), Viet Nam war, and Castro/Cuba.  Pioneer in Afro-American Studies, Judaic and Near Eastern Studies.  But I admire Julius most for three things:

    
1. He wrote "Look Out, Whitey!  Black Power's Gon' Get Your Mama!" about his days (through early '68, though he must have turned the manuscript in just before April 4), as a field coordinator on the ramparts at the SNCC,
2. He wrote "Cupid," and when I heard his heart-melting reading at the Jones Library he left tears on many of our faces,
3. He occasionally reads, sings, or lay-leads at services in our lively local synagogue, the Jewish Community of Amherst.

When in Amherst, come to the back room at A. J. Hastings Newsdealer's, and search among the greeting cards for his hand-printed and signed masterpieces, including this one below ("Black American Gothic") which I presented to my wife one year on Valentine's Day.  Then walk across the street to Amherst Books and purchase a copy of "Cupid," as I did for my eldest daughter as a Valentine's Day gift when she was coming of age.

Black American Gothic  (1966)  -  (c) Julius Lester

I was lucky enough to speak with Julius recently when his photographs were on display at the JCA. Introduced myself as a reader and as the son of an old English department colleague.  We shared a few words, and I met his lovely wife.  I took a chance and complemented her that she was no doubt the blessing in his life who enables him to write so warmly about human love and vulnerability.  Then I [coarsely] quoted him this passage from "Cupid," and thanked him for the dialog his book had opened between me and my then 13 year old daughter:

"There come moments in each of our journeys when we can no longer continue our lives as they are.  But neither can we see what we will become.  We either go forward, with no idea of where we are going or what we are doing, or we remain as we are - and begin to die, though we do not realize that is the choice we have made.  This is why love is such a fearful undertaking...."

Cupid: A Tale of Love & Desire, 2007
 

Shabbat Shalom

A man who understands struggle and love, and can enlighten us on each, is someone who understands much of what life is about.


Gratefully Yours.

Fellow Breast Man Roger Ebert

Poolside: an Urgent call . . .

Roger Ebert is one of the best ever - perhaps the finest -  movie/film critics in the world over the past 50 years (Take that, Paulene Kael!).  He and partner Gene Siskel (R.I.P.) created the "thumbs up/down" rating shorthand and had true chemistry as a reviewing team. 

Roger is a fanatic, on par with Peter Bogdonovich; he's also always honest and thoughtful - and I think quite fair - in his reviewing.  I appreciated this review of Roger's.  I still disagree with RE about Ryan's Daughter, though....

Thumbs Up !

Usually treated as an amusing footnote to his bio, the young Ebert of 1970 dabbled in debauchery with my hero Russ Meyer as screenplay collaborator on Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.

Ebert Surrounded - the Gang's All Here

In the spring of 2005 I finally got to meet Roger when he was honored with a CINE Lifetime Achievement Award on M street NW in Washington DC.  A friend had invited me to the event at National Geographic TV, and after seeing the Raymonds (Patient Zero progenitors with their high-quality PBS innovation "American Family" that indirectly begat today's 'reality' sewage) honored, I caught up with Roger.

First stop (establishing shot): Men's Room.

"Porter Hall," I introduced myself.  Ebert brightened, quizzically. "We have a good, mutual friend - RM" I continued.  "How do you know Russ?" asked Roger, and we were off.

Initial exposition and plot-set-up.  Backstory.  All that rot.  Choice private anecdotes for validation (see below).  Confirmation.  Camaraderie.  Continuity.  Drama, pathos and everything else, in ten minutes chat and a stroll from the Sumner School building down to the street, round the corner and a sidewalk parting at the cab on 17th street, NW.

Ebert instantly connected the dots - he had heard Russ talk of his Washington 'insider' buddy, referring always to a "Porter Hall," whose original namesake is a shady character whom Ebert/Meyer contrived in the BVD script, played to a villainous T by Duncan McLeod.  Well, that insider is yours truly.

Two Gentlemen without Equal

Roger and I lamented RM's passing the previous September.  By his words about Rus,s it was instantly, abundantly and cantilevered-ly clear that Roger had been as genuine and devoted a friend as any man could ever have.

Now, Russ was without doubt the best raconteur I ever met, with a genius for tale-telling, a vocabulary that he could have copyrighted, and a bottomless well of incredible stories ("Hemingway rousted us out of our fartsacks and paid our way into the best whorehouse in Paris"... "I screwed Uschi all that summer on the carpet of my office at Fox!"... "Ebert got blown by the pool!" ... etc.).

On and On . . .

The bond between Roger and Russ was borne out by the hours of tales RM had spun with me about his exploits with the youthful Ebert, which are more fully chronicled and liberally sprinkled throughout RM's 19-lb., three-volume "Breast of Russ Meyer."  And RM loved to recount these hi-jinks when we were out on the town.  Once, over huge portions of liver and onions at the Daily Grill in Palm Desert, Russ referred to Ebert (with obvious gleeful affection) a "that Moravian bastard!"  Russ was a demanding friend - he had no distractions in his own life other than self-selected obsessions, and he offered little and grudging latitude to those of us whose attention he craved; yet, although he no doubt vied competitively with her for RE's attention, RM always spoke with highest regard for RE's wife Chaz.

When we met, Roger was already struggling with the cancer that would eventually ravage his larynx, shoulder, jawbone, and facial structure.  Head held high, he soldiers on un-deterred, and un-abashed, just like his best friend.

News: Roger Ebert passed away April 4, 2013.

Rest In Peace, and See You At The Movies. 

Rockin' the Vote with Martha Quinn - My MTV All-Nighter

As an unsullied early-career kid, circa 1982-83, I had but one dream: to move to NYC and work in business development for MTV.  I got my shot in 1985, but before then something even more magical happened: I met and of course fell in love with Martha Quinn.

My Martha: Ah, the Eighties ...

Well, we all were in love with Martha, once she and her confreres hit the airwaves in August '81. But of course I was sure that I loved her more than anyone else possibly could.

California My Way - 5th Dimension, later Main Ingredient

So it's late 1983, and I'm an east coast boy on his first visit to California. Had already hit the beach in Malibu with Dick "Laugh-In" Martin, then rented a car and drove in a SoCal freeway Lot-49-and-L.A.-Woman revery down "the 5" and then east and west on Ball Road, bulked at Spaghetti Station, before checking in to the Anaheim Hyatt on the Disneyland perimeter for two days of the Western Cable Show.

I quickly found out where the night's action would be: upstairs at the WASEC reception.

Deep Purple: Place in Line

Bob Pittman was there, I schmoozed him a bit, hung with the marketing guys for a while, and then I spotted her, perched on a stool at the countertop, and lighting up the hospitality suite with her smile and laughter.  Martha Quinn - tiny as a mouse, and bubbly like new champagne. Chortling along: uplink site techie Paul Beeman, a jolly middle-aged guy from the Smithtown TOC.

Diamond Dave - Always On

What developed next was a boisterous, high-pitched music trivia game between the three of us, and it went on for over three hours.  Her handler got cranky because Martha was engrossed with us instead of working the crowd, but finally gave up and left us alone.  Forward we rolled like Def Leppard - On Through The Night.

I'll Join You In That Time Capsule

Martha really knew her 60's stuff, 80's Thompson-Twin techno/poppy-pop, and folk music, and she of course had the inside track on all the acts of the moment including the L.A. hair-metalers.  Beeman was an encyclopedia - acts, songs, dates, labels and chart position.  I held my own on heavy metal/NWOBHM, 70's soul/R&B, San Francisco sound - and early 50's vocal groups.  It is safe to say that we all showed each other up, and blew each other away.  Over and over and over.  I could hear music....

*  *  *  *  *

We stayed up nearly 'til sunrise.  Paul disappeared.  Great breathtaking fun, lots and lots of jazzy, twinkly eye contact.  Where would it end?  Well, it would end back in New York....

All Within Reach ... If You Know What To Do.

Naturally - what a rube! - I imagined/hoped that this night was just the beginning.  We exchanged numbers in the Hyatt lobby, agreed to each think about a trivia question that was really just a conversation continu-er concerning Van Halen and the high number and interesting selection of cover songs they had produced and might next produce, and we made vague plans to see each other in New York.

Martha in Malibu - I Want My ...

I had to call through the MTV switchboard many, many fruitless times for her (it was obvious there was a never-ending queue of clowns calling and panting for her, and I guess I was one, albeit ultimately with an edge of slight legitimacy), and we did indeed re-connect later that winter, for coffee on Astor Place, and separately, briefly and awkwardly, at the Cherry Lane Theater, but the magic was gone.  She was in her world, and I a visiting nobody from Nowheresville.

I later had opportunities to cross paths at the end-of-'84 MTV New Year's Eve Party, and at the 1985 MTV Music Awards, but by then fate had cruelly decided that nothing would materialize.

Still, ....