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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre, 5/10/25

(Silent star from the past materializes out of thin air!)

As someone matures, they start a mysterious rewinding process, much like birth-in-reverse, and ghosts from the past leap out of every nook and cranny.

This week, I was visited by the spirit of the former Ziegfeld Follies and silent screen star, Olive Thomas, who appeared out of thin air with former husband, Jack Pickford, close by her side.  To be perfectly frank (as well as very prima-donnish), the entire experience was completely overwhelming, and I shan’t recover anytime soon.

Olive Thomas, unfortunately, met an early demise in Paris, France in 1920, after swallowing poison, which ultimately resulted in her death on September 10th.  Her beauty had been the inspiration for artist Alberto Vargas’ work called “Memories of Olive,” and the piece was prominently displayed in the lobby of a New York Ziegfeld theatre for years, before being later sold to an art collector.

“Memories of Olive,” 1920 by Alberto Vargas

 Olive Thomas had once been married to actress Mary Pickford’s brother, Jack, and many believe her husband’s drinking, drug use and philandering drove her to take poison (mercury bichloride) in the early morning hours of September 6, 1920.  Also vacationing with the couple in Paris at the time of Thomas’ death on September 10th, was her close friend, actress and former Ziegfeld star, Mae Murray.

Jack Pickford was best remembered for his starring role in the 1917 silent version of Tom Sawyer, as well as its 1918 sequel, Huck and Tom.  He eloped with Olive Thomas in 1916 and by most accounts, their relationship was tumultuous until Olive’s eventual death from ingesting poison on September 6, 1920.  That death, incidentally, was eventually ruled accidental, but many consider it to be suicide.

Olive Thomas, the great beauty of the silent screen
Olive Thomas & friend
Olive Thomas’ husband, Jack Pickford, brother to Mary Pickford

So felt Mae Murray, who’d been in close contact with Olive at the time and implicated Jack Pickford for Olive’s death.  According to the Michael Ankerich book, “Mae Murray, the Girl with the Bee-Stung Lips,” Mae later wrote, “I tried to feel tolerant and understanding toward Jack, who had broken my friend’s heart because he had been himself and therefore was unlike what she wanted him to be. But I could not trust myself with him. No matter how humble and remorseful Jack would have been – and I’m sure that he was intensely so – I could not risk hurting him more.”

Frances Marion, who was a popular screenwriter during the silent era, said of the Olive Thomas and Jack Pickford relationship, “I had seen her often at the Pickford home, for she was engaged to Mary’s brother, Jack. Two innocent-looking children, they were the gayest, wildest brats who ever stirred the stardust on Broadway. Both were talented, but they were much more interested in playing the roulette of life than in concentrating on their careers.”

Kind of sounds like my shenanigans as I terrorized San Francisco during the 1980s and 90s… don’t ’cha know.

Until next time…

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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Sex Symbols

Keith’s Theatre 5/4/2025

(More artists from the past appear out of nowhere!)

As someone matures, they start a mysterious rewinding process, much like birth-in-reverse, and ghosts from the past leap out of every nook and cranny.

This week, I was visited by the spirit of artist, Alberto Vargas, who’d suddenly returned to life. 

I’ve always liked this artist’s work, yet the gallery chain where I worked for many years, Dyansen, handled several commercial artists but not Vargas’ art.  Alberto Vargas by this time had achieved worldwide notoriety and was attracting the attention of art collectors worldwide.

Joaquin Alberto Vargas y Chávez was born on February 9, 1896, in Arequipa, Perú, the son of a well-known Peruvian photographer.  Vargas, considered one of the leading pin-up girl illustrators and artists, perfected the use of watercolors, often in combination with the airbrush, during his lifetime. 

From January, 1941 “Esquire” magazine

Vargas had been employed early in his career by showman, Florenz Ziegfeld.  Vargas painted one of Ziegfeld stars, Olive Thomas, and the work was prominently displayed in the lobby of a New York Ziegfeld theatre for years, before being sold to a private collector. 

“Memories of Olive” by Alberto Vargas, 1920

Olive Thomas, in addition to being a Ziegfeld Follies star, had once been unhappily married to actress Mary Pickford’s brother, Jack, and many believe her husband’s drinking, drug use and philandering drove her to take poison in the early morning hours of September 6, 1920.  Also vacationing with her in Paris at the time of her death on September 10th, was her close friend, as well as former Ziegfeld Follies star, Mae Murray. 

Former Ziegfeld Follies star & friend of Olive Thomas, Mae Murray

Vargas later did work for several Hollywood studios creating movie posters, and one such design was for the 1933 film, The Sin of Nora Moran, starring Zita Johann.  Johann, an Austrian American actress is best remembered for her role opposite Boris Karloff in the 1932 film, The Mummy.

Other well-known actresses painted by Vargas included Ziegfeld’s wife, Billie Burke, silent screen actresses Bessie Love and Nita Naldi, and 1950’s sex symbols Mamie Van Doren and Marilyn Monroe.

Florenz Ziegfeld’s second wife, actress Billie Burke

During the 1940s, Esquire magazine featured many of the Vargas pin-ups, some of which I’ve featured below.  In 1959, Playboy magazine magnate, Hugh Hefner, began using Vargas’ work, which will be featured in a separate Keith’s Theatre column.

Alberto Vargas died on December 30, 1982, in Los Angeles, California.

Wikipedia’s biography of Alberto Vargas can be found at:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alberto_Vargas

Until next time…

From March, 1945 “Esquire” magazine
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Keith’s Theatre, 4/26/25

(Spirits conjure up memories of gallery daze, Erté & artist LeRoy Neiman)

What spirits have been haunting me lately?

Many! Read on to find out more…

As a person matures, they start a mysterious rewinding process, much like birth-in-reverse, and ghosts from the past leap out from every nook and cranny.

This past week, thanks to such forces, I relived my life in San Francisco during the 1980s and 90s.  At the time, I was employed in the commercial art world, installing art exhibitions at the Dyansen Gallery chain.  I traveled a lot on the West Coast between Beverly Hills, San Diego and Maui, where we operated four different galleries, but I was typically stationed at Dyansen Gallery in San Francisco, hanging our many Erté art retrospectives.  Erté had become the poster child for the Art Deco movement, was incredibly prolific and was well into his 80s at that time.

Installing Erté’s artwork was no small feat.  During his eight decades of life, he’d produced a plethora of original gouaches, a multitude of lithographs & serigraphs (silkscreens), as well as several bronze sculpture collections.  It was an incredibly lucrative business whereby many art dealers (as well as Erté) grew fabulously wealthy.

Arranging Erté’s bronze sculpture collections on their signature black lacquer pedestals became my favorite part, as well as the sculpture’s precision lighting.  This was still the era when halogen lighting was state of the art, and it predated the LED lighting that galleries currently use. 

Halogens were expensive to operate and generated a great deal of heat.  My favorite bulbs quickly became 50-watt PAR 36s which came in wide flood, flood, spot, as well as pin-spot versions.  These bulbs were installed in metal casings that plugged into tracks which were mounted in a steel framework known as Structura, manufactured by the Italian company, Targetti. 

Such track lighting was able to achieve dramatic effects on art which has never been equaled to date.  Structura by Targetti was and still is, the definitive method for lighting artwork, not yet surpassed.

Q50 MR16 halogen lights were the next gallery fad.  They were cheaper to use, and their burn time was significantly longer.  The problem with these bulbs – as they aged, they developed an annoying yellow cast, not at all flattering for showcasing art.  To combat the issue, General Electric developed their “Constant Color” which had a silver coating on back of the bulb, thus preventing the dreaded yellow glow that was toxic when selling expensive artwork.  As the GE brand was pricier, many galleries opted to put up with the ever-present yellow haze generated by the standard Q50 bulbs. 

My lighting memories (thanks to the invisible forces at work) morphed into recollections of some of my favorite exhibitions and artists, many of whom it was impossible to display in a negative light.  LeRoy Neiman, (1921-2012), was one such master, and his original paintings, pastels and line drawings once graced Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Clubs. 

I recalled in early autumn, 1989, about one month before San Francisco’s infamous October 1989 earthquake, when one of my most memorable shows took place.  It was the LeRoy Neiman exhibition of original Playboy Club art.

It was virtually impossible to display Neiman’s work in a negative light.

The artist was an imposing, impressive figure I might add, who towered above me at well over 6 feet and was always sporting his trademark handlebar moustache.  It was quite a sight and one I shall never forget.

Neiman’s works are pictured below from the book, LeRoy Neiman Five Decades.  A biography of Neiman can be found on Wikipedia:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/LeRoy_Neiman

I can feel more ghosts in the queue just waiting to confront me, including that of artist and humorist, Charles Bragg (1931 – 2017), that Dyansen carried exclusively for many years, as well as pin-up artist, Alberto Vargas (1896-1982) who we didn’t represent. 

Those are stories for another day.  I’m exhausted from communing with the dead and need a week’s rest.

Until next time…

Beatles, 1966, LeRoy Neiman
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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Miscellaneous Sex Symbols Social Media

Keith’s Theatre, 4/19/25

What’s going on in the world this week? A lot of it I’d rather forget about…

Lots of people up in arms about who said this, who said that, but that’s what makes the world go round, don’t ’cha know…

Those struggling to hold onto power or the outsiders waiting patiently for just the right moment to pounce and strike their prey…

Here in the U.S., opposing political camps choose to go to opposite corners of the boxing ring after doing extreme battle, then take a quick break before the next round begins…

Kind of like that all over the world, don’t ’cha think?

Take a gander at France…where the leading political candidate with a huge following, Marine Le Pen, just happens to make a grave mistake no one with political aspirations would dare ever make, and then the proverbial you-know-what hits the fan.  Hooey!

A jarring revelation just arrived from the United Kingdom (land of our British colonizers), where their Supreme Court decided what a woman is.  Let me repeat that…they’ve issued a proclamation about what a woman is!

Oh, goody, goody! Thanks for the big update…as if I didn’t already know!

Of course, everyone (and their cousin Ethel) weighs in on the issue, so oodles of video footage follow their Supreme Court’s ground shaking verdict. 

Seems we’ve all fallen into a somnambulist dreamworld where up is down and right is actually left, and men suffering from situational transsexuality are really women…

Have I just coined a new term for the psychobabble crowd? Situational transsexuality? Congratulations to Keith’s Theatre for a job well done!

Let’s change the channel, shall we? I feel like talking about something else now.

Blaire White’s channel is enormously funny, and she’s usually spot-on, but Blaire can make mistakes, and I think she’s dead wrong about Dylan Mulvaney.  Dylan’s a work in progress, girl, not frozen in time and space.  TikTok’s in its own little universe, don’t ’cha know, not at all like real life, so let’s give Dylan a break since she’s in a state of metamorphosis…

Somehow during all this madness, I found myself researching Hollywood’s most enduring marriages this week.  These statistics were found on https://stacker.com/

Art & Lois Linkletter 74 years

Bob & Dolores Hope, 69 years (though no official record can be found of Hope’s 2nd marriage)

Kirk Douglas & Anne Buydens, 64 years

Steve Lawrence & Eydie Gormé, 55 years

Joanne Woodward & Paul Newman, 50 years

How’s that for longevity in marriage? Of course, with the good news goes the bad, and there was a plethora of multiple marriages I just had to rant about.  Some of the culprits like Gloria Swanson and Zsa Zsa Gabor eventually stayed with their final spouse (or perhaps died before they could get to divorce court), but others struck out every time (Elizabeth Taylor and Lana Turner come to the forefront).

There’s something intrinsically exciting about zeroing in on the multiple alliances of Hollywood celebrities from the past – Gloria Swanson’s six husbands, Elizabeth Taylor’s eight marriages to seven different men (Richard Burton twice), or Zsa Zsa Gabor’s nine husbands.  And perish the thought I mention Lana Turner’s seven husbands or her cadre of lovers, one of whom was gangster Johnny Stompanato, stabbed to death by teen daughter, Cheryl Crane. (Keith’s Theatre feature from December 2023).

Did these glamourous ladies ever find that one true love we’re all searching for?” Sniffle sniff…

Perhaps the answer was yes for Gloria Swanson and Zsa Zsa Gabor.  They both were, after all, still married at the time of their deaths.  One can only speculate with Lana Turner and Liz, who both died husbandless and quite alone. 

Elizabeth Taylor once said of Richard Burton, to whom she was married twice, “All the men after Richard were really just company.”  Apparently, Liz had completely forgotten about third husband, producer Mike Todd, who was killed in a plane accident on March 22, 1958. According to a July, 1958 article from Canadian publication, Liberty, Liz was billing herself at the time as Mrs. Michael Todd and the schmaltzy article, as told to Joe Hyams, was titled, “I’m saying goodbye to the movies!”

Until next time…

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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Miscellaneous Social Media

Keith’s Theatre, 4/11/25

I wasn’t sure I’d find the time to write anything this week while traveling to visit my mother in Indiana but somehow, I managed.  My thoughts are a bit more scattered than usual, if that’s even possible.

So, I’m all for manufacturing returning to the US, but people have forgotten what came with it.  Serious pollution as I recall, and people often forget what they don’t want to remember, don’t ’cha know…

Gary, Indiana, just came to mind (on the road from Indianapolis to Chicago).  It was impossible to drive through in 1961 since you had to close all the windows, in our ‘61 Chevy Biscayne, manufactured in Detroit.  The horrendous smell really permeated the car, so we kids pinched our noses shut, but it still got through and just wouldn’t stop.

Finally, we all rolled into Chicago, leaving the stench behind.  Off to the Chicago Zoo, the Museum of Science & Industry, and the Museum of Natural History.  Pollution was out of sight and out of mind, until we got back home to Indianapolis, where the Rock Island Refinery spewed out foul smoke 24/7!

Shall we change the channel? Let’s…

Looks as if we’re seeing fewer arrows gracing YouTube thumbnails these days, thank heavens! Glad you asked about that other silly craze…all those thumbnails sporting that “I’ve just been electrocuted!” look.

Such is the world of social media, so very much like the supermarket tabloids (rag sheets) of my youth. 

PeriscopeFilm has a YouTube channel with a huge archive of classic videos.  I was reminiscing this week about my Indianapolis high school daze, so films from my 1970 driver’s education class were on the menu…like “Mechanized Death,” “Highways of Agony,” and “Signal 53,” all terribly bloody and gruesome!

I couldn’t watch the films then and found I still couldn’t.  The worst part? The screams for help emanating from those trapped inside the mangled wreckage.  

As Shakespeare wrote in Act 1, Scene 5 of Hamlet, “O horrible! O horrible! most horrible!”

On the lighter side, I watched the latest Dylan Hour, and the guest was Tony Award winning producer, Alyah Chanelle Scott.  I was pleasantly surprised how comfortable Dylan Mulvaney is in the podcast medium, a real natural…

If I were personally in charge of the show, though, I’d have my own way of doing things, don’t ’cha know…I’d keep a lot of the current features but would shorten the broadcast to ½ hour, and add a greater variety of guests. 

Including scantily clad, hunky men bringing Miss Mulvaney her cocktails.  Did I mention that part? 

YouTube’s Panic Button is just plain funny.  Those two love to trash Lily Tino (aka Miss Congeniality) and recently came up with some very creative suggestions for Miss Thing.  Seems Lily is bewildered about why she’s constantly being “misgendered.”

Yes, Miss Congeniality, you do need vocal training and the sooner, the better.

My advice to you, if you’re so repulsed by the thought of vocal coaching, is to simply…WHISPER, WHISPER, WHISPER!

“Oh, my goodness, I’ve just come down with a terrible case of laryngitis, and I can’t speak a single, solitary word!” That line, delicately delivered, should work, if that’s even possible.  Face it, girl, you aren’t exactly the poster child for daintiness!

Furthermore, always remember to wear black, which has a thinning effect.  Come to think of it, why not imitate the Lady in Black that visited Valentino’s grave, and wear a large black veil over your head?

If you keep the veil on and don’t say a word, bet no one would ever misgender you.  Don’t ’cha think?

Until next time…

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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Miscellaneous Sex Symbols Social Media

Keith’s Theatre, 3/28/25

(Move over Hopper & Parsons there’s a new witch around)

I was expecting the worst when I watched the Dylan Hour.  The worst, though, never came. 

Instead, I got a different look at the TikTok social media star that’s completely changed my mind.

I’m well-acquainted with the genre since I grew up watching Arthur Godfrey, Steve Allen, Jack Paar, Johnny Carson & Merv Griffin.  The lone talk show hostess arrived in the form of Virginia Graham, and I was a big fan of Girl Talk.

That type of format isn’t easy…

But Dylan more than rose to the occasion, looking relaxed, flawless and glamourous during the entire podcast, while gracefully modeling to-die-for clothing, and showing off her perfect hair and makeup.  (For the ladies in the audience, I’ll swear she’s a junior!)

It’s clearly projecting female. C’est fastoche! (as they say in France)

Most consider the starting point for Mulvaney’s rise to fame to be the TikTok videos chronicling her year-long transition to womanhood.  Next came that infamous interview at the White House with President Joe Biden, where Miss Mulvaney extolled the virtues of transitioning children.  Whether Joe Biden was completely aware of what was happening is anyone’s guess.

One can only hope Dylan’s come to her good senses about the advisability of children bypassing Tanner Stage 2 of adolescence. 

Next came Dylan’s Budweiser Light debacle, where she became poster child for the “Go Woke, Go Broke” mantra.  A lot of bad publicity followed, and more recently, Dylan’s new book, “Paper Doll,” was released to mixed reviews.

All in a day’s work for the indomitable Miss Mulvaney, who’s at the top of her craft at being the absolute center of attention, something a lot of Hollywood starlets would murder to find the secret for!

On one podcast, Dylan featured a handsome, young 21-year-old British actor, Joe Locke.  The two were sharing cocktails and whipped cream.  At one point, Dylan grabbed the Redi Whip container and squirted it directly into her mouth. 

We all get that one, Dylan! Especially Joe Locke…

I watched another episode with Dylan’s father, who’d popped up from San Diego, where presumably young Dylan was raised as a little boy.  I can see the family resemblance, since Dylan’s inherited Pop Mulvaney’s spunky entrepreneurial personality, though it’s hard to imagine Dylan ever being a little boy. 

That’s how convincing she’s become…

I see all kinds of possibilities for this podcast, and sincerely hope it continues.  It’s clear Dylan Mulvaney is here to stay, and will be around Hollywood for a long, long time.

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Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous Social Media

Keith’s Theatre, 3/22/25

(Move over Hopper & Parsons there’s a new witch around)

Have you ever had a tune playing repeatedly in your head? That happened to me this week when I remembered a spiritual my 7th grade music teacher, Mr. Welling (aka Baby Face Welling), played one day.  He got that nickname, Baby Face, since he had pronounced dimples and talked kind of funny, if you catch my drift…

At least that’s how kids in school at the time perceived it, especially the “hoods.”  A “hood” was a young male of questionable repute, who smoked cigarettes and always wore a leather jacket, even when it was hot outside.  Never could figure that out…

“Keep in the Middle of the Road” was on Mr. Welling’s menu that day, along with a few others I’ve long since forgotten.  The one song stayed with me since it wisely advised, “Children, keep in the middle of the road, children keep in the middle of the road.  Don’t you look to the right, don’t you look to the left, just keep in the middle of the road.”

Clearly someone was trying to teach the class that moderation is preferrable to the extremes one often finds in life.  It was a very practical, Midwestern lesson, especially applicable to 1966 when the U.S. was transitioning from beatnik to hippie mode.

I decided to search out “Keep in the Middle of the Road” on YouTube, and of course, found a plethora of versions to choose from.  I’ve included a link to one below.

And while I was there, I naturally had to catch up with the latest haps in social media land!

Skye Vitiritti’s channel had an excellent review of Dylan Mulvaney’s new book, “Paper Doll,” which graciously allowed people to avoid purchasing it and subsequently vomiting over its content.  Thank you, Skye, for preventing a plethora of Dylan-induced illness.

I was expecting the worst from this book and certainly wasn’t disappointed after hearing the sordid news.  Dylan, aka Miss Thing, has named her wiener.  It’s called “Missy.”  Skye could barely keep a straight face, nor could I.  And I’ll just bet no one else in the audience could, either.

Let me simply state this is something a woman would simply never do!

Men often do it, even some gays, though I could never be bothered to participate in that dubious practice. 

Really! As if it possessed a mind all its own.  How very adolescent!

Speaking of which, I’m sure young girls have a tough enough time with female adolescence, but I wouldn’t wish the male version on my worst enemy! I believe Act 1, Scene 5 from Shakespeare’s Hamlet sums the whole experience up perfectly, “O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible!”

And then, there’s a lot of hoopla on YouTube about someone with a big following on Tik Tok, Lily Tino.  She recently had facial feminization surgery and was revealing the results.  People are speculating as to whether she (and I use the term very loosely) really had plastic surgery at all.  Take it from a person who’s had plenty, she has, though I’m not convinced darling Lily got the best bang for her buck.

Frankly, I’ve never been able to get past the baritone voice.  Forget about facial feminization, bitch, get some laser surgery on your vocal cords, why don’t ’cha? If that’s not possible, get some training from a good vocal coach.  I know you live somewhere in the Bay Area, so Hollywood’s close by.  Plenty of vocal resources down there, so look someone up…and hurry, please, time’s a wastin’!

I also watched another clip from Gavin Newsom’s new podcast where he interviewed Tim Walz.  I’ll admit being flabbergasted when Newsom disagreed with Walz about Steve Bannon, who’d been a previous podcast guest.  Newsom spoke out in Bannon’s defense! Quite shocking yet refreshing.  Maybe there’s a glimmer of hope for our illustrious governor. 

Opening a dialogue with the opposition is a first step and I hope it continues.  With all the Getty money surrounding him, Newsom might well become Independent and perhaps Guv and the Dems will wind up in a divorce court. 

Divorce court don’t ’cha know, something near and dear to my heart since my parents trotted down that road when I was only 13.  It was just one year after my 7th grade music class with Baby Face Welling. 

Subject for another Keith’s Theatre…the divorce years…

Until next time…

Categories
Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous

Keith’s Theatre, 3/14/25

I’ve been spending too much time lately on YouTube and deserve a vacation.  Something different, less controversial.  Hmmm…what shall I write about?

I scoured my magazine archives for a topic.  Religion, perhaps?

A Liberty magazine feature written by Jim Tully, from January 12, 1929, “Aimee Semple McPherson – What’s She All About?”, was just screaming at me! I think the author caught my attention with these words:

“One of the very greatest actresses now alive in the world has an audience under her spell. Her whole-heartedness, coupled with her tremendous verve and dominating will, explains this woman’s phenomenal success.  Only one other career in the world would have allowed her complete expression – the stage.”  Tully also wrote, “Shop girls claim her gowns are finer and more expensive than those sold to movie stars.”

Well, that did it since everyone knows I’m a sucker for an aspiring actress story! Especially true when they have beautiful gowns, a scandal and a tragic ending!

Sister Aimee Semple McPherson
January 12, 1929 version of “Liberty” magazine

Such shenanigans, though, are nothing new in the world of evangelism and far be it from me to throw stones.  The Old Testament has admonished us not to engage in what is called the evil tongue.  In biblical Hebrew the term is לשון הרע (“lashon hara.”)

Upon second thought, perhaps I shall cast a few stones at Aimee Semple McPherson! I’m only human, don’t cha know?

Let’s dive right into the scandal as related by the 1929 Liberty feature where “Sister Aimee,” as she was known to her followers, became embroiled in an alleged kidnapping scheme on May 18, 1926.  According to the evangelist, on the day in question, she had just finished swimming at the beach when she was approached by a weeping woman with a nervous male companion.  The two informed her their baby was dying and wanted her to pray over it. 

Sister Aimee wanted to dress first, but the woman persuaded her otherwise, then threw an overcoat over her dripping shoulders and ran ahead to her car.  By the time Sister Aimee arrived, the woman was holding a bundle tenderly in her arms, seated next to a third man.  When the evangelist leaned over to pray for the baby, she was suddenly pushed into the vehicle and last recalled something sweet-smelling being held over her mouth.

When McPherson awoke, she was in an unknown location and discovered that she was being held for half a million in ransom, Tully wrote and went on to say:

“During this period of her captivity, her captors went to a blind lawyer in Long Beach, California.  They told him the terms of the ransom.  The lawyer went in turn to the district attorney and Federal officers, and recounted what the kidnapers had told him.  The authorities believed the story to be preposterous.” The writer added that “A day or so later, the blind attorney was beaten severely in his own office by the same men!”

No sources were provided for the above statements, nor were any given for the following.  I guess we must accept it on faith:

  • “Ransom notes were received at the temple.  Federal post-office investigators became interested.  Later it was discovered that the stamps on one of the letters had been mysteriously changed.”
  • “At the moment when the Federal men were to seize the typewriter they felt had been used in typing the notes – the machine disappeared!”
  • “In a mysterious midnight journey, the captors, according to Aimee, took her to a shack – somewhere on the Mexican desert, twenty miles in some direction from Agua Prieta.  She spent two days in the shack, and was then left conveniently alone.”

Keep in mind, Sister Aimee was, having been drugged, unconscious during this period.  How could she possibly have known exactly where she was? We’re never told.  The writer continued:

  • “With the edge of a tin can she sawed in twain the cords which bound her wrists together.  Her hands freed, she quickly unbound her ankles.”
  • “She walked through the intense heat of the desert day and late into the night.  At Agua Prieta she found the police.  They took her to Douglas, Arizona.”

Yes, funny the subject of Douglas, Arizona, should come up! That’s where the evangelist’s church received a phone call from, on June 23, 1926, exactly five weeks and one day after her disappearance from the beach.

Aimee Semple McPherson

It seems a little time was lost, wouldn’t you say? Sister Aimee is recalling only a few days of her life, yet over five weeks have passed since she was supposedly abducted!

Having miraculously recovered from her debacle, Sister Aimee announced that it was all the result of a rival church’s underworld plot to unseat her from her evangelist throne.  A grand jury investigated but ultimately decided there wasn’t enough evidence to indict the suspected kidnappers.

The article concluded, “The legal battle was waged off and on in the courts for half a year.  At last the case against the evangelist collapsed on January 10, 1927.  Now, nearly two years later, conflicting opinions still flourish.  No trace of the kidnapers has ever been found.”

No, indeed, because there probably never were any.  Furthermore, there was a rumor that she’d been cavorting in a lascivious way with one of her co-workers, in Carmel, California. 

I almost forgot to include the terrible fate that awaited Aimee Semple McPherson on September 27, 1944.  The evangelist suffered a heart attack In Oakland, California, where she’d gone to preach at local revivals.

Sister Aimee’s autopsy report showed that it was precipitated by an overdose of secobarbital, ruled to be accidental, not intentional. 

The distinction is thin, though, when people find they’ve reached that moment in time.

Categories
Hollywood, Broadway & More! Memorial Miscellaneous

Keith’s Theatre, 3/7/25

(Move over Hopper, Parsons & St. Johns, there’s a new witch around)

So, I picked three winners from last Sunday’s Oscars:  Adrien Brody (Best Actor), Zoe Saldaña (Best Supporting Actress), and Kieran Culkin (Best Supporting Actor).  I was wrong about Best Actress since Mikey Madison won for Anora, not Fernanda Torres for I’m Still Here, and another prediction missed the mark since the former, not the latter film, garnered the Best Picture prize.

Can’t win ‘em all which is nothing new since I’ve disagreed for decades with the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences.  Shall I go on? Why, thank you…

The 1941 Academy Awards ceremony quickly comes to mind, with Ginger Rogers’ Best Actress win.  I’m not sure what the Academy saw in Ginger, as there were plenty of other actresses to pick from that year.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big Rogers aficionado (especially love her dancing) but excusez-moi, Best Actress for Kitty Foyle?

And let’s not forget the 1961 Academy Awards when Elizabeth Taylor won her “sympathy” Oscar, after languishing near death in a hospital prior to the awards ceremony.  I’m a big Taylor fan, but Best Actress for BUtterfield 8 – spare me, please!

Fast forward to the “Best-We-Forget the Actor” Oscar of 1969, when Cliff Robertson won for his leading role in Charly.  Peter O’Toole’s stellar performance in The Lion in Winter was quite impossible to ignore, yet somehow the Academy managed to vote for the opposition.

And speaking of casting votes…I sure hope Californians get more savvy about who and what they’re voting for.  If you catch my drift…

And I see the subject of politics mysteriously came up so let’s jump over to YouTube! The California governor has apparently stirred up controversy interviewing conservative Charlie Kirk.  On Guv’s new podcast, he suddenly announced to Kirk he’d come to the realization that transgender women competing against biological women in sports is inherently unfair. 

Just now realizing that, are we? Pardon me while I bang my head on the floor…

Naturally, there were many from the LGBT (just keep adding letters, not sure what they mean anymore) community protesting outside.  These activists were holding the proverbial signs denouncing fascism, like “Nazi Go Home,” “The Only Good Fascist is a Dead Fascist,” and of course the obligatory “Death to Fascism!” sign.

Frankly this tiring old script is a bit much for me to bear! I feel one of my headaches coming on…

At the end of the day, I’m still trying to figure out what the subject of transgender women competing in female sports has to do with homosexuality or bisexuality.  Would someone please enlighten me?

And suppose, just suppose Guv really does have presidential aspirations? This Hoosier boy has some advice – you’ll never sell in the Midwest!

Don’t cha think, or don’t cha? Until next time…

Categories
Hollywood, Broadway & More!

Keith’s Theatre, 3/2/25, special Oscar edition

(Move over Hopper, Parsons & St. Johns, there’s a new witch around)

I noticed it’s (yawn) Oscar Night in Hollywood.  Except for footage from Emilia Pérez, which I eviscerated several weeks ago, I’ve only found the time to peruse the trailers.

Speaking of Emilia Pérez, I understand that several old posts from Karla Sofía Gascón have suddenly surfaced.  That things could get so political and catty! Perish the thought.  Such behind-the-scenes scuffles by those clamoring for fame just makes my stomach churn…  

Such posts could thwart Miss Gascón’s chances for whisking the coveted Oscar off into the netherworld.  What surprises me most is that la señorita Gascón posted anything controversial in the first place, surely knowing the posts could reappear at the most inopportune moment. 

Which has apparently happened…

I’ve noticed of late that a plethora of influencers are feigning “outrage” that a biological male should ever be permitted to compete for best actress.

Seems to me we’re dealing with the art of illusion.  If someone’s truly convincing, perhaps they should be allowed to carry it to the extreme…

Besides, la señorita Gascón now identifies as female, and that should count for something, shouldn’t it?  Yes, she’s either “transexual” or “transgender/trans” (depending on which circles you travel in).  You see, words are being parsed these days in trans-world, as well as among gay men and Lesbians, where many resist using the term “queer.”  I perfectly understand since the notion of being “trans” or “queer” seems almost religious or cult-like these days.

Don’t cha think?

Enough of my opinions, let’s move on to who’ll win in the major categories! Who, oh, who will cart home those delectable little Oscars?

Anyone nominated should consider it an honor (obligatory lip service).  Having said that, let me add that it’s certainly no picnic when you’re stuck with a lousy script and director (ad-lib). 

I predict the Best Supporting Actor award will go to Kieran Culkin for his performance in A Real Pain.  Best Supporting Actress will be Zoe Saldaña for Emilia Pérez.  Karla Sofía Gascón won’t win for her role, and the ever-political Academy will have to toss something Emilia Pérez’s way.

Best Actor & Best Actress categories are decidedly more of a challenge. The former award will likely go to Adrien Brody, for his role in The Brutalist, and I believe the latter award will go for Fernanda Torres’ performance in I’m Still Here

Finally, we come to Best Picture category.  A wild guess…I’m Still Here.  Guess we’ll find out later today! As they say in the craft, break a leg. 

Until next time…