When most people hear the name Jean Simmons, they immediately think of the "Kiss" guy (his name is spelled GENE), but some of us think of a delicate, beautiful British-born actress, a two-time Oscar nominee and Golden Globe and Emmy Award winner, whose career spanned six decades and who left a body of work that should have guaranteed her lasting fame but is largely unknown today. At Chelsea Pines Inn, where "there are more stars than there are in heaven," Jean Simmons' star continues to shine as brilliantly as it did during the height of her fame in the 1950s and 60s.
While some of her films are considered classics, it is generally the performances of their male stars that are remembered: Burt Lancaster in ELMER GANTRY (he deservedly won the Oscar, while Ms. Simmons' equally unforgettable portrayal of Sister Sharon Falconer was not even nominated); Olivier's HAMLET (she was nominated at the age of 19 as Ophelia, but Olivier won two Oscars as star and producer); Sinatra and Brando in GUYS AND DOLLS (their egos and acting styles got all the press, but it was Jean who stole the picture and got a Golden Globe as well).
But watch the aching beauty of her performances in such dramas as ALL THE WAY HOME and HOME BEFORE DARK (both sadly unavailable on home video) or in the tv miniseries THE THORN BIRDS; she could command the screen with her stillness and her small gestures and quietly break your heart. And when given the chance, all too seldom, she could cut loose as a terrfic comedienne, as she does as the daffy best friend in the little-known Cary Grant gem, THE GRASS IS GREENER, or in the delighftul THE ACTRESS, where she portrays the young Ruth Gordon as a fledgeling actress. Even the disappointing THE HAPPY ENDING, where she is front and center as an alcoholic wife going through a divorce, seems a whole lot better than it is thanks to her portrayal. And some of us were lucky enough to see her shine on stage, in the national touring company and London edition of the brilliant Stephen Sondheim/Hugh Wheeler musical classic, A LITTLE NIGHT MUSIC.
In short, she could do it all, and perhaps because of that, she never quite got her due as one of the screen's great actresses. There are many great stars who were so good in so many different types of movies (Irene Dunne, Myrna Loy, Doris Day) that the Oscar eluded them throughout their working careers. Sadly, Jean Simmons now joins that illustrious group, but happily for all of us, a number of her great performances can be seen and enjoyed on home video, and Chelsea Pines will always proudly feature the Jean Simmons room.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Monday, December 14, 2009
Chelsea Pines salutes Doris Day and Nellie McKay!
Chelsea Pines is the home to film stars of the golden age, which thanks to home video and DVRs we can see and enjoy their films any time we want. But no star was bigger, brighter or more multi-talented than Doris Day. Ms. Day has had a "room" at Chelsea Pines (as do 21 other iconic film stars) for many years now, and she has been a personal favorite of mine since I was a kid. Obviously, this is true for my guests as well, as her room has always been among the most requested. And we can now thank Nellie McKay, one of the music world's most popular singers, for revisiting the world of Doris Day's music.
Nellie has made her mark as singer/songwriter/arranger/animal right activist, and her albums chart on Billboard and Amazon.com in the top 100 with regularity. Now she has taken all her passions and combined them into an amazing recording called "Normal as Blueberry Pie," a tribute album to the songs and style of singer/actress/animal right activist Doris Day. Ms. Day, whose career spanned the early 1940s as a big-band singer, then a top recording artist and Hollywood actress through the mid-60s, and finally the star of a regrettably dopey TV series until the early 70s, has taken an unfair beating in tbe film and music field until recent years and a more comprehensive look at her amazing career. With virtually all her films now available on DVD and most of her recordings on CD and MP3, and several recent books that examine her personal and professional lives, Ms. Day can now be seen for what she really was: a show business phenomenon that will probably never be repeated again.
Now 87 and living totally out of the spotlight, Ms. Day continues to own the pet-friendly Cypress Inn Hotel in the picturesque town of Carmel-by-the-Sea, Calfornia, where guests are encouraged to vacation with their cats and dogs. While she rarely if ever appears in public, her popularity has reached a new peak in the 21st century. The fact is that Nellie McKay has produced this new recording, which brings Doris to a whole new (and much younger) music-listening audience, as an homage to Ms. Day's unique style and sound, without attempting to offer an imitation but more a suggestion of Ms. Day's artistry.
True, Doris was saddled with some really poor song choices by her then-husband (who famously lost all her money in bad investments while signing her to a TV-series contract without telling her, and then dying and leaving her to clean up the mess), and at least one of them (the title song from the lame "Send Me No Flowers," suprisingly by Bachrach and David) does surface on this album, and time hasn't made it any better. However, from the hundreds of songs Doris recorded over a 20-year period, Ms. McKay's other choices are generally terrific, including the first song that made Doris a singing superstar ("Sentimental Journey") and one of her last recorded songs, "Close Your Eyes" (from an amazing album with music great Andre Previn called "Duet"). Other highlights are "Mean to Me" (from what is arguably Doris' finest film performance, as singer Ruth Etting in "Love Me or Leave Me") and the Rodgers and Hammerstein chestnut "Wonderful Guy" (from "South Pacific," one of the films Doris should have made, with apologies to Mitzi Gaynor). Ms. McKay even includes an original song, "If I Ever Had a Dream," written and sung in the best Doris Day style.
It's taken too many years for Ms. Day to receive her due (she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2004 and a Lifetime Grammy in 2008), and her final years of performing in films and TV were formulaic, to say the least. How different would her legacy had been if she had accepted the offer to star as Mrs. Robinson in the late-60s classic film "The Graduate"? Watch her performances in such classics as "Pillow Talk," "The Man Who Knew Too Much" and aforementioned "Love Me or Leave Me" and you can see what an amazing and natural talent she had. And now we can listen to both Nellie McKay and Doris Day and revel in their very different but equally amazing musicality.
And we know that both Doris and Nellie would love Charlie Chaplin, our hotel mascot (he's really the owner, I only do what he tells me).
Nellie has made her mark as singer/songwriter/arranger/animal right activist, and her albums chart on Billboard and Amazon.com in the top 100 with regularity. Now she has taken all her passions and combined them into an amazing recording called "Normal as Blueberry Pie," a tribute album to the songs and style of singer/actress/animal right activist Doris Day. Ms. Day, whose career spanned the early 1940s as a big-band singer, then a top recording artist and Hollywood actress through the mid-60s, and finally the star of a regrettably dopey TV series until the early 70s, has taken an unfair beating in tbe film and music field until recent years and a more comprehensive look at her amazing career. With virtually all her films now available on DVD and most of her recordings on CD and MP3, and several recent books that examine her personal and professional lives, Ms. Day can now be seen for what she really was: a show business phenomenon that will probably never be repeated again.
Now 87 and living totally out of the spotlight, Ms. Day continues to own the pet-friendly Cypress Inn Hotel in the picturesque town of Carmel-by-the-Sea, Calfornia, where guests are encouraged to vacation with their cats and dogs. While she rarely if ever appears in public, her popularity has reached a new peak in the 21st century. The fact is that Nellie McKay has produced this new recording, which brings Doris to a whole new (and much younger) music-listening audience, as an homage to Ms. Day's unique style and sound, without attempting to offer an imitation but more a suggestion of Ms. Day's artistry.
True, Doris was saddled with some really poor song choices by her then-husband (who famously lost all her money in bad investments while signing her to a TV-series contract without telling her, and then dying and leaving her to clean up the mess), and at least one of them (the title song from the lame "Send Me No Flowers," suprisingly by Bachrach and David) does surface on this album, and time hasn't made it any better. However, from the hundreds of songs Doris recorded over a 20-year period, Ms. McKay's other choices are generally terrific, including the first song that made Doris a singing superstar ("Sentimental Journey") and one of her last recorded songs, "Close Your Eyes" (from an amazing album with music great Andre Previn called "Duet"). Other highlights are "Mean to Me" (from what is arguably Doris' finest film performance, as singer Ruth Etting in "Love Me or Leave Me") and the Rodgers and Hammerstein chestnut "Wonderful Guy" (from "South Pacific," one of the films Doris should have made, with apologies to Mitzi Gaynor). Ms. McKay even includes an original song, "If I Ever Had a Dream," written and sung in the best Doris Day style.
It's taken too many years for Ms. Day to receive her due (she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2004 and a Lifetime Grammy in 2008), and her final years of performing in films and TV were formulaic, to say the least. How different would her legacy had been if she had accepted the offer to star as Mrs. Robinson in the late-60s classic film "The Graduate"? Watch her performances in such classics as "Pillow Talk," "The Man Who Knew Too Much" and aforementioned "Love Me or Leave Me" and you can see what an amazing and natural talent she had. And now we can listen to both Nellie McKay and Doris Day and revel in their very different but equally amazing musicality.
And we know that both Doris and Nellie would love Charlie Chaplin, our hotel mascot (he's really the owner, I only do what he tells me).
Monday, August 10, 2009
Celebrating 40 Years (Stonewall, Moonwalking, Woodstock and Coming Out)
Just having seen the new Ang Lee TAKING WOODSTOCK (a major disappointment from a major filmmaker), it is probably time to recall the world 40 years ago this summer. And quite a world it was in the summer of '69.
Okay, we all know that Judy Garland had died, the cops were doing their usual bust of gay bars (this time the Stonewall on Christopher Street), and the drag queens and other queers finally said, "no more!" All right, it wasn't that simple, but all the years of community repression came to a boil in that singular moment, and an entire movement was born (at least in New York City; not sure that San Francisco needed that epiphany to gather momentum, but it certainly gave the green light to other urban areas around the country that it was time to kick open those closet doors and come out into the street and into the light). Our world, and the world at large, would never be the same again. While it is true that we are impatiently waiting for our hoped-for human rights breakthrough from our current administration, we must take stock of the fact that we have made incredible strides in ONLY 40 YEARS; it took women and ethnic minorities a lot longer (and still does) to accomplish what the LGBT community has done in such a short time. When President Obama was face to face with an octogenarian lesbian colleague of mine at his recent LGBT White House meet-and-greet, she looked him straight (?) in the eye and said, "When will I have the same rights as everyone else?" He looked right back at her and said that it would happen by the time his term of office was over. Let us take heart and be patient but vigilant.
For those of you were alive during that fateful summer, watching astronaut Neil Armstrong take his "first small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind" as he did his now-historical moonwalk, is something you will never forget. Many of us thought at the time that by now we would routinely be flying to the moon, to Mars, to other galaxies. Human mistakes, lack of funding and perhaps an inability for our country to dream have slowed things down considerably; now, if you can afford beaucoup bucks, a ride on a rocketship may be yours, but for the rest of us, it really is only a dream. When Walter Cronkite passed away last month, we were reminded of that historical moments and how we all felt and thought and dreamed, even while the war in Vietnam raged on. A paradoxical time, to be sure.
No, I didn't make it to Woodstock, and I didn't actually know anyone who did, but the tales have become more fanciful over the years, and you might think that everyone in their teens and twenties were there, but you would be wrong (it's like all the theatregoers who swear they saw ANYONE CAN WHISTLE or CARRIE in their original incarnations; if it were true, those shows would still be running). But we all took the same drugs, listened to the same music and did our best to score with our sexual partners of choice. As I mentioned earlier, TAKING WOODSTOCK, which is yet another coming-of-age, coming-out story, doesn't even really conjure up the music of the day (perhaps the rights were too expensive), and only pretends to get its bell-bottom jeans dirty with mud and rain. Save your money, go to Amazon and buy the new special edition of WOODSTOCK, which includes amazing footage of the singers and the songs and three days of peace and love.
And finally, my coming out...well, let's just say it was something akin to Columbus discovering America. I mean, I always knew it was there, but it was the repressive 1950s and the exploding 1960s, and frankly, I was just overwhelmed. Yeah, I had a couple of gay sexual encounters, but I always beat a hasty retreat back to the closet, where I was starved and stangled but safe. But in the summer of '69, thanks to a new feeling in the air, in the world, I finally allowed myself to feel, to be my true self...and to sleep with three guys, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes just one at a time, but oh what a time it was. I was 20 and suddenly I could conquer the world as a gay man. There were many bumps and many obstacles still to come, but at that moment in time, none of it mattered. Many "relationships" followed this time, and ultimately the two relationships that formed and forged my life (my late partner Sheldon, my beloved husband Tom) were still to come, but for the first time in my life I could begin to understand what I was about and why I was here at all.
So a 21-gun-salute to the 40th anniversary of what was, in many ways, the first year of me.
Okay, we all know that Judy Garland had died, the cops were doing their usual bust of gay bars (this time the Stonewall on Christopher Street), and the drag queens and other queers finally said, "no more!" All right, it wasn't that simple, but all the years of community repression came to a boil in that singular moment, and an entire movement was born (at least in New York City; not sure that San Francisco needed that epiphany to gather momentum, but it certainly gave the green light to other urban areas around the country that it was time to kick open those closet doors and come out into the street and into the light). Our world, and the world at large, would never be the same again. While it is true that we are impatiently waiting for our hoped-for human rights breakthrough from our current administration, we must take stock of the fact that we have made incredible strides in ONLY 40 YEARS; it took women and ethnic minorities a lot longer (and still does) to accomplish what the LGBT community has done in such a short time. When President Obama was face to face with an octogenarian lesbian colleague of mine at his recent LGBT White House meet-and-greet, she looked him straight (?) in the eye and said, "When will I have the same rights as everyone else?" He looked right back at her and said that it would happen by the time his term of office was over. Let us take heart and be patient but vigilant.
For those of you were alive during that fateful summer, watching astronaut Neil Armstrong take his "first small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind" as he did his now-historical moonwalk, is something you will never forget. Many of us thought at the time that by now we would routinely be flying to the moon, to Mars, to other galaxies. Human mistakes, lack of funding and perhaps an inability for our country to dream have slowed things down considerably; now, if you can afford beaucoup bucks, a ride on a rocketship may be yours, but for the rest of us, it really is only a dream. When Walter Cronkite passed away last month, we were reminded of that historical moments and how we all felt and thought and dreamed, even while the war in Vietnam raged on. A paradoxical time, to be sure.
No, I didn't make it to Woodstock, and I didn't actually know anyone who did, but the tales have become more fanciful over the years, and you might think that everyone in their teens and twenties were there, but you would be wrong (it's like all the theatregoers who swear they saw ANYONE CAN WHISTLE or CARRIE in their original incarnations; if it were true, those shows would still be running). But we all took the same drugs, listened to the same music and did our best to score with our sexual partners of choice. As I mentioned earlier, TAKING WOODSTOCK, which is yet another coming-of-age, coming-out story, doesn't even really conjure up the music of the day (perhaps the rights were too expensive), and only pretends to get its bell-bottom jeans dirty with mud and rain. Save your money, go to Amazon and buy the new special edition of WOODSTOCK, which includes amazing footage of the singers and the songs and three days of peace and love.
And finally, my coming out...well, let's just say it was something akin to Columbus discovering America. I mean, I always knew it was there, but it was the repressive 1950s and the exploding 1960s, and frankly, I was just overwhelmed. Yeah, I had a couple of gay sexual encounters, but I always beat a hasty retreat back to the closet, where I was starved and stangled but safe. But in the summer of '69, thanks to a new feeling in the air, in the world, I finally allowed myself to feel, to be my true self...and to sleep with three guys, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes just one at a time, but oh what a time it was. I was 20 and suddenly I could conquer the world as a gay man. There were many bumps and many obstacles still to come, but at that moment in time, none of it mattered. Many "relationships" followed this time, and ultimately the two relationships that formed and forged my life (my late partner Sheldon, my beloved husband Tom) were still to come, but for the first time in my life I could begin to understand what I was about and why I was here at all.
So a 21-gun-salute to the 40th anniversary of what was, in many ways, the first year of me.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
CHELSEA PINES to be featured on NEXT TRIP RADIO with Duane Wells
Today Tom Klebba, Director of Sales & Marketing at CHELSEA PINES INN will be a featured guest on the Duane Wells travel radio show.
Come here all about Chelsea Pines' exciting new enhancements including the addition of 1-Bedroom Suites and a business center!
HERE'S THE THING airs daily Monday through Friday, 2 - 3pm EST, on NEXT TRIP RADIO.
Next Trip Radio, the 24 hour a day, seven day a week destination for travel. Each day Duane, an editor and writer whose work covers everything from politics and entertainment to travel and style, can be heard discussing the world of travel from the inside OUT.
A native of the South, Duane Wells decided early on in life that the world at large and not just the rural South would be his playground. In fact he claimed at an early age as his motto the phrase, “The best is yet to come!”
In addition to being an independent publishing professional, Duane is currently Editor-at-Large for GayWired Media in which capacity he oversees content related to politics, entertainment, travel and style for the GayWired Media family of websites. Duane also serves as a contributing writer for magazines including: Passport, Instinct, OutTraveler, URB, DYSONNA The Magazine and the Toronto-based Canadian luxury travel and design magazine, Homefront where he debuted a quarterly lifestyle column called Living Wells in 2007.
A resident of Los Angeles, Duane has most recently been living in London where he has been toiling over a number of projects which include his first novel, Heaven or Hell, Darling?, a collection of his previously published work as well as a collection of short essays entitled, One Day I Woke Up and Everyone was Wearing Culottes!
Stop by and give them a listen!
Come here all about Chelsea Pines' exciting new enhancements including the addition of 1-Bedroom Suites and a business center!
HERE'S THE THING airs daily Monday through Friday, 2 - 3pm EST, on NEXT TRIP RADIO.
Next Trip Radio, the 24 hour a day, seven day a week destination for travel. Each day Duane, an editor and writer whose work covers everything from politics and entertainment to travel and style, can be heard discussing the world of travel from the inside OUT.
A native of the South, Duane Wells decided early on in life that the world at large and not just the rural South would be his playground. In fact he claimed at an early age as his motto the phrase, “The best is yet to come!”
In addition to being an independent publishing professional, Duane is currently Editor-at-Large for GayWired Media in which capacity he oversees content related to politics, entertainment, travel and style for the GayWired Media family of websites. Duane also serves as a contributing writer for magazines including: Passport, Instinct, OutTraveler, URB, DYSONNA The Magazine and the Toronto-based Canadian luxury travel and design magazine, Homefront where he debuted a quarterly lifestyle column called Living Wells in 2007.
A resident of Los Angeles, Duane has most recently been living in London where he has been toiling over a number of projects which include his first novel, Heaven or Hell, Darling?, a collection of his previously published work as well as a collection of short essays entitled, One Day I Woke Up and Everyone was Wearing Culottes!
Stop by and give them a listen!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Election Day = Wedding Day
Way back in 2004, when the commonwealth of Massachusetts announced its passage of the first real same-sex marriage law (how that must have pissed off Mitt Romney!) my partner Tom Klebba and I decided that it was time to legalize our 15-year union.
Here's a bit of background: We had met in 1988 as members of the New York City Gay Men's Chorus (I was a charter member, Tom had recently joined) and had both been cast in the Chorus' production of "Once Upon a Mattress." The production was mostly notable for introducing us to each other, but also because it began some of our lifelong friendships (Irma Csermak, Hank Baker), was a jumping-off point for a future Broadway star (Ann Harada of "Avenue Q" fame) and sadly, a farewell to several of our theatre colleagues (Martin Teitel, David Bartee). It also was the beginning of our theatrical collaboration (Tom as director, Jay as producer) , first with "110 in the Shade" at NYU, and then subsequent off-Broadway productions under our Opening Doors banner (with a tip of the hat to Stephen Sondheim) of "You're Gonna Love Tomorrow," "Company," "Anyone Can Whistle" (its first New York incarnation since its 9-performance run in 1964), "On a Clear Day..." (with the amazing Burton Lane as our artistic advisor), and our own Cole Porter revue, "Anything Cole."
Back to our wedding: in preparation for our nuptials, we joined the Unitarian Church in Pittsfield, MA, not far from our upstate home in the Berkshires. All plans were made: string trio to play Satie, Bernstein and Ravel for the ceremony, the briefly formed Berkshire Gay Men's Chorus (in their debut and farewell performance), singing the Bock/Harnick "Sabbath Prayer," a jazz band for all-night dancing under a tent that had been magically built and decorated on our upstate property, caterers, wedding planners, celebrants, the whole nine yards. Just as we were going to press with our elaborately designed invitations (the amazing work of our niece Alana), the law allowing same-sex couples to marry in Massachusetts went into effect. Within a few days, the bad news came fast: in an effort to stem the tide of too many gay men and lesbians coming to their state, the Massachusetts legislation refused to allow same-sex out-of-state residents to obtain marriage licenses by invoking a 1913 miscegenation law that was still on the books (don't even ask; it was Romney and his ilk getting back at us).
We were devastated. What to do? Only one answer: move forward. Law or no law, the "wedding" took place as planned, on July 10, 2004, and it was a magical day for us, our family and our friends. Our upstate home flowed over with love and celebration and beautiful weather, including a knockout sunset. All was well, but...when would we be able to legalize our union?
It took four years, but finally on July 31, 2008, more than four years later, the fight was won: same-sex couples were now legally able to marry in Massachusetts!! But when to do it? Tom had the obvious answer: to marry on Election Day, our 20th anniversary, which would also (we hoped) celebrate the day our country began its long, slow but inevitable climb toward hope. We contacted the estimable Boston-based organization GLAD (Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders), a group that has done more for LGBT rights that any group we know, and found an amazing 28-page document, "How to Get Married in Massachusetts," that tells you everything you could possibly need to know.
It led us to search for a Massachusetts-based Justice of the Peace. We wrote to several JPs, all of whom got back to us very quickly. But one stood out from the others. His name is Brian Birkel, he's located in Pittsfield, and he was absolutely the right guy for us. He called me immediately to discuss what we wanted. I explained our situation, the fact that we had already had the big ceremony four years ago, and now we wanted to simply say "I do" legally. He admitted that we were the first same-sex couple he would marry, and was extremely enthusiastic to work with us. Over the next few weeks I sent him some information about our lives together, our 2004 ceremony etc. From this he fashioned a brief but beautiful ceremony, held in his back yard under warm and sunny November skies, complete with the exchange of rings once again (I had not removed my ring since Tom placed it on my finger more than four years earlier, and only the adrenaline of the situation managed to get it off and then on again). Brian was clearly moved by the event, and we were so glad that we had chosen him.
After some hugs and kisses and a few tears, the deed was done, and we were now married! Off we went to a very elegant lunch at Wheatleigh, a beautiful old mansion-turned-hotel, where we had the entire dining room to ourselves. As we had already voted for our man earlier that morning, we hurried home to watch the election results that we had prayed for but were still afraid to count on...and on November 4, 2008 all our prayers and fondest hopes came true. It would be a day to remember for all the right reasons. And it would also be a day to continue the fight, as Proposition 8 brought a temporary halt to same-sex marriage in Calfornia. But as thousands of people protested this latest indignity at rallies all over the country, we truly believe that future legislation will once again turn in our favor, and that what was begun in Massachusetts in 2004 will one day be law throughout this country.
Here's a bit of background: We had met in 1988 as members of the New York City Gay Men's Chorus (I was a charter member, Tom had recently joined) and had both been cast in the Chorus' production of "Once Upon a Mattress." The production was mostly notable for introducing us to each other, but also because it began some of our lifelong friendships (Irma Csermak, Hank Baker), was a jumping-off point for a future Broadway star (Ann Harada of "Avenue Q" fame) and sadly, a farewell to several of our theatre colleagues (Martin Teitel, David Bartee). It also was the beginning of our theatrical collaboration (Tom as director, Jay as producer) , first with "110 in the Shade" at NYU, and then subsequent off-Broadway productions under our Opening Doors banner (with a tip of the hat to Stephen Sondheim) of "You're Gonna Love Tomorrow," "Company," "Anyone Can Whistle" (its first New York incarnation since its 9-performance run in 1964), "On a Clear Day..." (with the amazing Burton Lane as our artistic advisor), and our own Cole Porter revue, "Anything Cole."
Back to our wedding: in preparation for our nuptials, we joined the Unitarian Church in Pittsfield, MA, not far from our upstate home in the Berkshires. All plans were made: string trio to play Satie, Bernstein and Ravel for the ceremony, the briefly formed Berkshire Gay Men's Chorus (in their debut and farewell performance), singing the Bock/Harnick "Sabbath Prayer," a jazz band for all-night dancing under a tent that had been magically built and decorated on our upstate property, caterers, wedding planners, celebrants, the whole nine yards. Just as we were going to press with our elaborately designed invitations (the amazing work of our niece Alana), the law allowing same-sex couples to marry in Massachusetts went into effect. Within a few days, the bad news came fast: in an effort to stem the tide of too many gay men and lesbians coming to their state, the Massachusetts legislation refused to allow same-sex out-of-state residents to obtain marriage licenses by invoking a 1913 miscegenation law that was still on the books (don't even ask; it was Romney and his ilk getting back at us).
We were devastated. What to do? Only one answer: move forward. Law or no law, the "wedding" took place as planned, on July 10, 2004, and it was a magical day for us, our family and our friends. Our upstate home flowed over with love and celebration and beautiful weather, including a knockout sunset. All was well, but...when would we be able to legalize our union?
It took four years, but finally on July 31, 2008, more than four years later, the fight was won: same-sex couples were now legally able to marry in Massachusetts!! But when to do it? Tom had the obvious answer: to marry on Election Day, our 20th anniversary, which would also (we hoped) celebrate the day our country began its long, slow but inevitable climb toward hope. We contacted the estimable Boston-based organization GLAD (Gay and Lesbian Advocates and Defenders), a group that has done more for LGBT rights that any group we know, and found an amazing 28-page document, "How to Get Married in Massachusetts," that tells you everything you could possibly need to know.
It led us to search for a Massachusetts-based Justice of the Peace. We wrote to several JPs, all of whom got back to us very quickly. But one stood out from the others. His name is Brian Birkel, he's located in Pittsfield, and he was absolutely the right guy for us. He called me immediately to discuss what we wanted. I explained our situation, the fact that we had already had the big ceremony four years ago, and now we wanted to simply say "I do" legally. He admitted that we were the first same-sex couple he would marry, and was extremely enthusiastic to work with us. Over the next few weeks I sent him some information about our lives together, our 2004 ceremony etc. From this he fashioned a brief but beautiful ceremony, held in his back yard under warm and sunny November skies, complete with the exchange of rings once again (I had not removed my ring since Tom placed it on my finger more than four years earlier, and only the adrenaline of the situation managed to get it off and then on again). Brian was clearly moved by the event, and we were so glad that we had chosen him.
After some hugs and kisses and a few tears, the deed was done, and we were now married! Off we went to a very elegant lunch at Wheatleigh, a beautiful old mansion-turned-hotel, where we had the entire dining room to ourselves. As we had already voted for our man earlier that morning, we hurried home to watch the election results that we had prayed for but were still afraid to count on...and on November 4, 2008 all our prayers and fondest hopes came true. It would be a day to remember for all the right reasons. And it would also be a day to continue the fight, as Proposition 8 brought a temporary halt to same-sex marriage in Calfornia. But as thousands of people protested this latest indignity at rallies all over the country, we truly believe that future legislation will once again turn in our favor, and that what was begun in Massachusetts in 2004 will one day be law throughout this country.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Why Do Lesbians Have All the Fun?
I guess you could call November ‘The Month of the Lesbian’ at Chelsea Pines Inn. This month marked a terrific feature about our little hotel in JANE AND JANE, the leading magazine celebrating ‘sophisticated living for lesbian lifestyles’ (which recently went national) and our sponsorship of NYC’s most fabulous night for lesbians and the gay men and straight folk who love them, THE WOMEN’S EVENT.On November 1 Chelsea Pines was a Palladium Sponsor of the LGBT Community Center’s 11th Annual WOMEN’S EVENT. The evening was held on the beautiful Hudson River at Chelsea Piers and the honorees were Ilene Chaiken, creator of THE L WORD, Stephanie Gibbons, Executive VP of Marketing On-Air Promotion of FX Networks and Lisa Sherman, Execuitve VP and General Manager of LOGO. By the way, Chelsea Pines Inn takes great pride in having been the first hotel in America to bring LOGO-TV to its guests.
This was our first year as a sponsor and it was a real eye-opener!
The evening started out with a cocktail hour featuring some incredibly creative and tasty appetizers. What was so immediately striking about this evening was the panoply of our LGBT community present. It was clear that this evening celebrated the entire community – all ages, all races, all body-types. We were all together, all dressed-up and ready to party! We boys were oh, so happy to be included.
The evening, a benefit for the LESBIAN, GAY, BISEXUAL & TRANSGENDER COMMUNITY CENTER, used this year’s 11th anniversary to honor three women behind the success of THE L WORD. THE L WORD is entering its sixth and (sadly) final season. We couldn’t agree more with Gwen Marcus who said it has brought visibility and honesty to the portrayal of women’s lives, shattered harmful stereotypes, inspired young and old to come out, highlighted LGBT civil rights and other issues of importance to our community and continues to foster understanding and acceptance among non-LGBT people.
All three women, as well as Center Board Member Gwen Marcus, spoke eloquently about THE L WORD and its contributions. Additionally, Jennifer Beals fired up the crowd with an impassioned speech about our impending political moment!Afterwards, the happily energized crowd took to the dance floor. It was an evening we were truly sorry to see end.
We were also overjoyed to be featured in JANE AND JANE this month. If you haven’t come across it, it is a terrific mag that highlights sophisticated living for lesbians. As opposed to most male-oriented LGBT press that has become more fashion mag than informational, JANE AND JANE strikeS a perfect balance of content and design. You can now find it on newsstands across the country. Be sure and check them out at www.janeandjane.com.
In their Travel Postcard section they said ‘for travelers wishing to experience New York City’s most exciting neighborhoods, while still keeping to a budget, the CHELSEA PINES INN is a perfect home away from home.” Thanks JANE AND JANE!
In their Travel Postcard section they said ‘for travelers wishing to experience New York City’s most exciting neighborhoods, while still keeping to a budget, the CHELSEA PINES INN is a perfect home away from home.” Thanks JANE AND JANE!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Gay Pride Sunday 'in the park with George' (and Steve and Alec)
As the owners of Chelsea Pines Inn, the most popular LGBT hotel in New York City, it behooved us to do something especially gay on Gay Pride Sunday this year. How to celebrate? Marching in the parade? Great, but done that many times. Dancing on the pier? Maybe 20 years ago. In truth, we had already decided several weeks ago where we would be on June 29: at the final performance of the amazing new production of Sunday in the Park with George, the classic Stephen Sondheim/James Lapine musical that in any other season would have trumped the Tony Awards, but with the last-minute arrivals of Gypsy and South Pacific, unfairly faded into the background and walked away empty-handed on Tony night. Don't get me wrong: the latter two shows deserve tremendous praise for their accomplishments, but it was a shame that the wonder that is Sunday has received but two Tony awards ever (scenic and lighting design for the original production, richly deserved), and not a single one for its creators or stars (Bernadette Peters and Mandy Patinkin in 1984, Genna Russell and Daniel Evans in 2008). The best score of 1984 was judged to be Jerry Herman's La Cage aux Folles...don't get me started. Anyway, Steve's work has been iconically gay for decades, and who wouldn't want to be at a closing performance of one of his shows? We were so there!
Somehow we managed to land great seats (8th row, just on the side aisle), particularly lucky as we saw the long line of people begging for cancellations. Just as the lights went down, and a roar went up as this landmark show began its last performance, Mr. Sondheim slipped into his seat just across the aisle from us. Very cool. When I first met him many years ago, as concert producer/charter member of the NYC Gay Men's Chorus and for our Sondheim tribute evening, he had specifically asked for seats in the back of the house, because he wanted the audience to watch the show, and not watch him watching the show. Sadly, he's right. It was tough not to look over periodically to see how he was enjoying his own work, in the hands of this tremendously talented company, and I'm glad to report he seemed quite happy, applauding enthusiastically at the end of each number. The man has great talent and great taste.
I was pretty teary during Daniel Evans' heartfelt "Finishing the Hat" and was awash through his "We Do Not Belong Together" with Genna, Mary Beth Peil's moving rendition of "Beautiful" (why have I always thought it was called "Changing'?), and of course the first act finale of "Sunday". I cried all during the second half of Act Two, from Genna's gorgeous "Children and Art" through the very last moment, when I was sobbing (yes, I looked across to Steve, and he was sobbing too). As it was the last performance, and the audience had been hyped from the first moment, Daniel, Genna and company (which included the remarkable pop/jazz singer Jessica Molaskey) had to re-time their movements as the audience responded to the emotion of the moment over and over again. In its final moments, when the company is singing "Sunday" for one last glorious time, Genna was crying so hard that she was practically unable to sing her last solo line ("In our perfect park"), and Daniel was equally overwhelmed as he turned upstage and the entire company bowed to him one final time. As Genna/Dot floated off the stage, the roaring in the theatre was such that Daniel had to hold up his hand to the audience so that he could deliver his final line ("White: a blank page or canvas..."), his face wreathed in smiles and tears. As I looked across the aisle, Steve had characteristically left his seat, both in an effort to be backstage to congratulate the cast and to not be noticed by the audience. The man who has changed the face of the American musical theatre forever (no, as he put it in his speech read by Mandy at the Tony Awards this month, not single-handedly, but in collaboration with some of the theatre's greatest creative minds) had indeed been noticed; if not in person, as is his wont, but through the creation of a work of art that inexplicably moves us in ways that only great art can.
From the sublime to the sublimely ridiculous: to cap off our own Gay Pride celebration, we went downtown to Joe's Pub for an hour of outrageousness with Alec Mapa, the actor/standup comic who graces a moment or two on "Ugly Betty" and whose LOGO-TV special has been running for years (enough already, LOGO, time for a new special!) Billing himself as "America's Gaysian Sweetheart," Alec kept us convulsed by hitting all the targets: gay travel (his recounting of being a guest artist with both Rosie's cruises and an Atlantis cruise that also featured Debbie Reynolds and Charo were priceless), gay sex (his explanation of how he knows someone is a rice queen cuts right to the bone, as it were), and gay marriage, where he ends with an unexpectedly touching account of his own relationship was lovely. His outfit (very Project Runway, in a Catholic little-boys-school fashion, complete with school tie) was a winner (great legs, Alec), and when he describes the sex with his lover (howling like two cats having sex) we howled too!
We left the theatre, happy and exhausted, and a little sad that we had missed the fireworks across town at the pier. But no, we were in luck: the fireworks had just started, and as we crossed 8th Street going west, we could see them just above the trees and tall buildings. We stopped to marvel at them, and a young woman stopped with us, enjoying them but confused. "Why are there fireworks tonight?" she asked us. "It's Gay Pride night!" we answered in unison.
And for us, it really was. Thanks, Steve, and thanks, Alec.
Somehow we managed to land great seats (8th row, just on the side aisle), particularly lucky as we saw the long line of people begging for cancellations. Just as the lights went down, and a roar went up as this landmark show began its last performance, Mr. Sondheim slipped into his seat just across the aisle from us. Very cool. When I first met him many years ago, as concert producer/charter member of the NYC Gay Men's Chorus and for our Sondheim tribute evening, he had specifically asked for seats in the back of the house, because he wanted the audience to watch the show, and not watch him watching the show. Sadly, he's right. It was tough not to look over periodically to see how he was enjoying his own work, in the hands of this tremendously talented company, and I'm glad to report he seemed quite happy, applauding enthusiastically at the end of each number. The man has great talent and great taste.
I was pretty teary during Daniel Evans' heartfelt "Finishing the Hat" and was awash through his "We Do Not Belong Together" with Genna, Mary Beth Peil's moving rendition of "Beautiful" (why have I always thought it was called "Changing'?), and of course the first act finale of "Sunday". I cried all during the second half of Act Two, from Genna's gorgeous "Children and Art" through the very last moment, when I was sobbing (yes, I looked across to Steve, and he was sobbing too). As it was the last performance, and the audience had been hyped from the first moment, Daniel, Genna and company (which included the remarkable pop/jazz singer Jessica Molaskey) had to re-time their movements as the audience responded to the emotion of the moment over and over again. In its final moments, when the company is singing "Sunday" for one last glorious time, Genna was crying so hard that she was practically unable to sing her last solo line ("In our perfect park"), and Daniel was equally overwhelmed as he turned upstage and the entire company bowed to him one final time. As Genna/Dot floated off the stage, the roaring in the theatre was such that Daniel had to hold up his hand to the audience so that he could deliver his final line ("White: a blank page or canvas..."), his face wreathed in smiles and tears. As I looked across the aisle, Steve had characteristically left his seat, both in an effort to be backstage to congratulate the cast and to not be noticed by the audience. The man who has changed the face of the American musical theatre forever (no, as he put it in his speech read by Mandy at the Tony Awards this month, not single-handedly, but in collaboration with some of the theatre's greatest creative minds) had indeed been noticed; if not in person, as is his wont, but through the creation of a work of art that inexplicably moves us in ways that only great art can.
From the sublime to the sublimely ridiculous: to cap off our own Gay Pride celebration, we went downtown to Joe's Pub for an hour of outrageousness with Alec Mapa, the actor/standup comic who graces a moment or two on "Ugly Betty" and whose LOGO-TV special has been running for years (enough already, LOGO, time for a new special!) Billing himself as "America's Gaysian Sweetheart," Alec kept us convulsed by hitting all the targets: gay travel (his recounting of being a guest artist with both Rosie's cruises and an Atlantis cruise that also featured Debbie Reynolds and Charo were priceless), gay sex (his explanation of how he knows someone is a rice queen cuts right to the bone, as it were), and gay marriage, where he ends with an unexpectedly touching account of his own relationship was lovely. His outfit (very Project Runway, in a Catholic little-boys-school fashion, complete with school tie) was a winner (great legs, Alec), and when he describes the sex with his lover (howling like two cats having sex) we howled too!
We left the theatre, happy and exhausted, and a little sad that we had missed the fireworks across town at the pier. But no, we were in luck: the fireworks had just started, and as we crossed 8th Street going west, we could see them just above the trees and tall buildings. We stopped to marvel at them, and a young woman stopped with us, enjoying them but confused. "Why are there fireworks tonight?" she asked us. "It's Gay Pride night!" we answered in unison.
And for us, it really was. Thanks, Steve, and thanks, Alec.
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