By Albert Samaha
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
The heat was on at the Ali Forney Center benefit, "Jingle," which starred gender-reassigning performer Our Lady J, who'd just had a fundraiser of her own called "Boob-Aid (All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Tits)." Our Lady J told me that the event was a hit, "and the 'girls' are coming! I'm starving myself so I can make room for the silicone." Or maybe she can just have larger blouses waiting in the trailer.
What I Did for Love
Want to twirl your ta-tas over some old Broadway gossip from the era when people didn't eat a hoagie while watching a show?
First off, I ran into Donna McKechnie, the original Cassie from A Chorus Line, and asked her about something said in the Oscar-shortlisted Every Little Step documentary. Supposedly, creator Michael Bennett realized that Cassie had to get cast in the chorus line because Marsha Mason told him the audience hated the fact that she didn't. "It had to be more than her just saying it," McKechnie instructed me. "The audiences tell you everything. Michael said, 'We can't do that anymore!' [Producer] Joe Papp wanted it to be real—he wanted it to stay that way—but Michael felt the obligation to lift up. You want to make it palatable." Still, Donna and I agreed that it was right for Sheila to not get the job!
Leroy Reams got the job of entertaining at a Tovah Feldshuh tribute at the Friars Club some weeks ago, so he took the stage to do an axed song the character of Horace Vandergelder originally sang in Hello, Dolly!. Reams said star Carol Channing understood the cut, remarking, "It's called Hello, Dolly!, not Hello, Horace!." But in person, she didn't always get such a greeting. Reams described driving with Channing on the road and passing a tunnel on which it had been painted, "God Save Us." They looked down and saw that someone had added, ". . . from revivals of Hello, Dolly! with Carol Channing."
Want some more current theater gossip? Well, I recently met a woman who told me she's trying to get a musical about a girl with a purple vascular birthmark produced on Broadway. "Oh, that's been done," I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Actually, it has," she said. "Violet!"
Oh, well. I'm off to download Leo Tolstoy's secret sex tape—the one where he soils his panties.