Part 5 - LOIS, PRINCESS RADZIWILL - Final chapter

Addicted to drugs, Lois began to pawn her jewels (including a sapphire and diamond-studded makeup compact that was a wedding gift from England's Queen Elizabeth.) In order to retrieve her jewels, she started calling and begging Alex to send her more money, often threatening him with a palimony suit. When he did, she would go to the Ace Pawnshop in Santa Monica and buy back the jewels. When the money Alex sent was no longer sufficient to support her growing drug habit, Lois began to sell the pawnshop receipts. Eventually the money and jewels were gone.

After numerous drug arrests in Los Angles, and internments in a drug rehabilitation center in Lexington, Kentucky, alone she returned to New York and turned to prostitution. Desperate for money and drugs Lois was selling herself on the streets of Harlem.

The last time I saw the Princess Radziwill was after a drug bust in Los Angeles. She was in a courtroom where she was being sentenced for possession and dealing. Poor, broken, her arms covered with needle marks, she was a bloated shadow of her past. Wearing a faded and out-of-date Dior suit, she turned to me as the police led her away. With a wan smile, she repeated her favorite adage about the moon and stars, but added "don't ever get involved again with people like me Larry. Look what I did with my gift."

I never saw her again, but heard a rumor she'd died of cancer in prison.

Part 4 - LOIS, PRINCESS RADZIWILL

Prior to her arrival in Southern California I'd heard and read all sorts of bizarre rumors about Lois' marriage, her pending divorce, and her free lifestyle. One rumor suggested Lois was romantically involved with a former Miss New Orleans, Betty Doss, who was reputedly the mistress of actor George Raft. Another suggested a Russian princess, Zina Rachevsky, a waterskiing pal of Lois' from her Monte Carlo days, was supplying Lois with hash, marijuana and amphetamines.

Actually, most of the rumors proved to be true. Lois was in California to be near her family, who had since moved to the town of Venice and to reconsider her relationship with Alex. However, Lois seemed to be a bit naive about her relationships with friends and, with an underlying insecurity, relished the attention paid to her by the transient beach crowd, who had now become her "subjects and admirers."

As the years went by the Princess became more involved with drugs.

Part 3 - LOIS, PRINCESS RADZIWILL

It was in Monte Carlo at the Monte Carlo Yacht Club, after winning the waterski championship of 1950, that Lois began to take up with a younger international crowd, many of whom engaged in a freer lifestyle than she had experience with Alex. Alex strongly disapproved of her association with these "unsavory characters" and admonished her often.

Their frequent battles regarding her behavior eventually severed their relationship. The final blow being Berglas had returned home to Colmar from a business trip to find his Eliza Doolittle in bed with another woman and in a rage cut off Lois' beautiful blond hair. The effect on Lois was a nervous breakdown resulting in an extended stay at the famed Bircher-Benner sanatorium in Switzerland.

Alone, bewildered and vulnerable, Lois turned to Berglas' closest friend, the 70 year old Polish Prince Wladislaw Jerszy Radziwill, heir to the defunct Polish throne, whom, out of spite to Alex, she married.

The marriage to Prince Radziwill was short-lived. "The reason for the divorce was because he used warm water when he brushed his teeth and I use cold," is how the national magazine Cue reported Lois' break up with the Prince.

Lois realized it was Alex Berglas she really loved, after all, and repeatedly attempted to reconcile.

Part 2 - PRINCESS RADZIWILL: THE BEGINNING OF A DREAM

Lois Olson of Bismark North Dakota was the daughter of poor Norwegian-American parents. In 1947 at age 17, 6 feet tall, blond and beautiful, she ran off from home to marry a sailor named Evans. Unhappy in her marriage she left him after a short while and moved to New York to join her sister, who was appearing as a showgirl at the fabled Copacabana nightclub. She tried modeling dresses, but because of her height, the only job she could find was modeling fingernail polish for magazine advertisements.

It was in New York in 1949 when Lois' life changed dramatically. While waiting for a stoplight to change at the corner of 57th Street and Fifth Avenue, a handsome, well-dressed European gentleman commented to his friend the girl next to them was the most attractive woman he'd seen in New York. Overhearing the conversation, Lois thanked the stranger and jokingly said that he was the handsomest man she'd seen in that city. After a brief conversation and introductions, Alex Berglas, a French textile magnate invited Lois to dine that evening.

Over the next few weeks, Alex began to lavish Lois with gifts of jewelry and clothes. Charmed by her Mid-Western naivite' yet chagrined by her lack of social acumen, he convinced her to return with him to Colmar, France, where she could learn French and German, and polish her social graces. In retrospect, Berglas might have been recreating a French version of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion, thereby commencing to turn an ingenuous farm girl into a poised, charming, "great beauty" adept in language, makeup and wardrobe. Christian Dior, a friend and client of Berglas', personally designed her clothes.

At age 20, Lois wasn't happy being secluded in a small textile town in the Eastern part of France. She begged Alex to take her to Paris or the Cote d'Azur where she could meet other young people. Reluctantly, the world-wise Berglas, 20 years her senior, agreed and taking her to Monte Carlo he introduced his protege to his jet-set world, which included the rich, jaded "beautiful people" of La Dolce Vita. Lois became a willing participant.

A PRINCESS REMEMBERED

"Lois, Princess Radzivill is my correctly used title" she said.

I met Lois in the summer of 1951 at a fascinating bar, The Tropical Village, on Crystal beach in Ocean Park California. In addition to its gay clientele, the bar appealed to both the movie colony (Vivian Leigh, Lawrence Olivier, Rita Hayworth, the Aly Khan, etc.) and members of the international "jet-set". The TV, as it was called by regulars, was presided over by George Ball, a short, jovial proprietor who made it his business to introduce bar patrons to one another and keep the mood upbeat at all times.

Although there were several gay bars in the neighborhood, the "TV" offered patrons the pleasure of dancing to the music of a lesbian band, and a cabaret decadence reminiscent of Berlin in the 1920's, which was its primary attraction.

It was George who introduced the Princess and me, and within a short period of time we became intimate friends.

The following is an abbreviated story of a fairy tale princess:

Tall, blond and beautiful, each time the American born Lois Olson of Bismark, North Dakota entered a restaurant anywhere in the world, every male jumped to his feet to honor the internationally admired and now named - Lois, Princess Radzivill.

TO BE CONTINUED

MUSING AND OTHER STUFF

I cannot believe nothing has been written on this page since December! So much has been happening. All exciting. I won't bore you with a day to day account but......here are some highlights.

RANCHO MIRAGE: The renovation of house and grounds look better than I ever imagined. The property has been designated a 1957 Historical Designation - Architects Wexler-Harrison. We were presented with a bronze plaque which is now attached to a huge boulder roadside. Just found out the road is a Private Road. That means we have to maintain it. I called the city of RM and suggested they acquire it as a public street. The answer was: "No Thanks".

WEXLER: Donald Wexler, the architect who designed the house is 84 years old and living in Palm Springs. As I previously mentioned a long while ago, our paths were destined to cross. 1/ His designs were our ideal while we were searching for a desert weekend house. 2/ Turns out he and I are from the same town, Minneapolis, and discovered we went to three of the same schools and lived in the same neighborhood. Not at the same time if you don't mind. 3/At his recommendation we hired the architect, Lance O'Donnell, to restore the house. 4/ His younger brother, Jerry, dated my sister Sandy in junior high school. The Palm Springs Museum of Art is exhibiting a 4 month retrospective of his past work.

NEW YEARS EVE: Eight of us celebrated in the RM house. Rather than cook I served big chicken pot pies from Dupars restaurant. With champagne bubbling, palm trees swaying and the pool sparkling, the evening was a success. New Years day began with a minor catastrophe. Seems unbeknownst to us the house is not on a city sewer (although the contracts state it is), it is on Septic. What with our 2 guests showering, dishwasher dishing, and the washing machine washing, everything backed up into the guest room shower basin. I helluva way to begin the New Year. Who do I sue?

MEDICAL: Seems each year there is one medical crisis in my life. As a former assistant of mine, Rosa Corral, used to say: "Age my dear age". One year a broken foot, another year something else, and on and on. This year I had an operation on my right hand pinkie. The operation is called a Mose. Yes, a few years ago I had one on my nose. Mose on da Nose. Not to go into the gory details, for a good couple of months I cannot use my right hand to play the piano. However it shouldn't be a total loss......I discovered there is an enormous amount of piano music written exclusively for the left hand and I am learning a beautiful Scriabin Prelude.

ADDENDUM: Basically, life is interesting what with frequent exciting and/or upsetting episodes. I look at the crazy world around me and realize how fortunate I am to be happy, healthy and calm most of the time. I can't complain. Celebrated M's birthday the other evening with a small group of friends. Drank good wine and ate good food. Who could ask for anything more? My two angels always watch over me (yes, there are two. One on each shoulder). Change, whether good or bad is constant. You can't let the negative overtake you. Even though I still do scream at Sarah Palin's image on television.

MAN EATS HEARING AID!

The past couple of weeks have been hectic what with our finally moving into the Rancho Mirage house. Number one, the house, grounds and pool are fantastically beautiful (If I may say so myself). M stuck tooth and nail to his vision - prodding me to not compromise. He worked diligently with the Pool designer and the Landscape architect, searched online for the optimum design of appliances, faucets, toilets and you-name-it. I am sure I might have settled for less but he persisted and our compromise (which I never believed I could do) turned out very well. Although the carpeting for the bedrooms is still somewhere at sea on it's way to us, over the Thanksgiving holiday we had our first guests: M's sister and bro-law. Stressed as I was with the move and prematurely having guests I made an attempt to behave and not get snarly. Thanksgiving dinner was at the Palm Springs restaurant Le Vallauris with J & C from San Fran, D & C who live in Palm Springs, the relatives visiting from Denver, M et moi. We had a great time and it was terrific to go home to our own house and not have to bother friends hosting us or check into another Gdamned hotel. I must admit moving out of Paris and into Rancho Mirage were not exactly dissimilar. Stress Stress Stress, but on many different levels. I vow to never do it again. Said he.
Now about the title of this blog: I wear what I call "Audio Enhancers", very commonly known as "Hearing Aids". Last evening, dining here at home, I took one of them out of my ear and placed it next to my plate. M had put almonds on the plate and without looking I mistakenly thought the Aid was an almond that had fallen off the plate (I wasn't wearing my glasses) and popped it into my mouth. One loud crunch made me realize I'd tried to eat my Hearing Aid. As I said: "I have been very stressed out"!

LETHARGY

"Lethargy....you're making a mess of me...". There is so much going on in my life right now that I actually feel I am doing nothing and accomplishing nothing. Yes, I voted! I can imagine Meg throwing down a couple of martinis at the conclusion of the results. "Waiter! Make it a double and hurry!" The endless renovation on house in RM is almost finished - moving in on the 18th,("God's ears" as my dear old grey haired mother used to say). The other evening Barry Krost was deservedly honored at an Aids Project Los Angeles cocktail reception held at Nieman Marcus Bev. Hills. Barry has, since the 80's, donated his time as a volunteer producer of many high-powered events and has raised thousands of dollars for the agency. Jackie Collins, Sidney and Joanna Poitier and many other donors warmly acknowledged our friend: the guest of honor. Nieman M generously provided booze, nibbles and eye-candy bartenders and waiters. Last night the Los Angles Symphony was conducted by the energetic Pablo Heras-Casado in an evening of music usually only programmed in a European city. The reason I say that is, for example, Debussy's Jeux is rarely played in this country. The rest of the program had the pianist Peter Serkin dynamically performing with the orchestra the Stravinsky Concerto for Piano and Winds and, a favorite of mine, the Takemitsu piece: Riverrun. The sensational evening ended with the beautiful Stravinsky Suite from Firebird. When I am in Paris I often attend concerts at either the Theatre Champs-Elysee or the Theatre Chatelet where I hear a certain type of musical fare. Last night I reflected on those Paris concerts and realized how fortunate we are to be listening similar music in Disney Hall. I guess after a while it all becomes a blur and the run run run is balanced by the quiet time. Doing nothing and accomplishing nothing isn't so bad, after all.

FRIENDS

The week began on Sunday last with a dinner here at home. JP, a lovely and very vivacious lady I've known for many years and who is always a joy to be around, MC, M's good friend who is a lady that is a true free spirit, B & S, husband and wife who are indirectly responsible for my meeting MM, and are warm and wonderful. Yes, old friends. "What d'ya say old friends?" (Sondheim). The next evening I dined at Etoile with DG, a good and giving friend, followed by an evening spent with MG, whom I hadn't seen in 14 yrs and it was as though it was yesterday. He was visiting here from Kansas City and was funny and spirited as ever. To begin the weekend there was dinner at Trio in Palm Springs with four friends (yes, again, friends) and the following night a Luau given by DG and her partner C. DG was my sister's partner for 8 years. I call her my ex-brother in law. Sunday JR celebrated his 88th birthday and there were four of us for brunch at Spencer's in Palm Springs. Just friends.

EVENTS

This past week was filled with Events. We belong to a Documentary club. A film is shown each month to members at a home that can accomodate 40 or so persons watching it on big screen TV's. The past one was at PK's contemporary house. Buffet dinner, wine and the movie. Next night it was off to the Member's opening of the new Resnik Pavilion at LACMA. Absolutely first rate building designed by I.M. Pei. Three rooms of exhibition. OLMEC, Impressionist paintings and Period Costume. My favorite being the costume exhibit which outshines anything I have seen in Paris, in regards to restoration, placement, mannequins and lighting. As far as I am concerned the French just don't get lighting in museums. Guests were entertained under a huge tent with dinner and drinks. Following evening was dinner at the restaurant EVA with B & D. We were the liveliest table in the place with the food and wine flowing. Sunday afternoon was a benefit for the upcoming Los Angeles Modernist Museum given at an Eames owned and simply designed house - with a killer view of the Pacific ocean. And then, other than my usual gym, dentist, physical therapy, piano lesson, French lessons, DG gave a rainy Wednesday lunch of good soup and sandwiches. You may not believe this but M and I spend the majority of evenings at home. But now and then "we dip".

YOU NEVER KNOW

This past week was filled with unexpected events. A car crashed into the rear of the new BMW loaner car I was driving. Full moon = crazy drivers. Also due to circumstances beyond my control I missed the dress rehearsals of two operas: Il Postino and The Marriage of Figaro. But! Things took a turn for the better with a delightful dinner at T & L's penthouse apartment in West Hollywood where the food was great and conversation lively and controversial. (My big mouth, as usual). Then the topper of the week was the opportunity to spend an evening, at dinner, with M's friends who were indirectly responsible for his and my meeting and whom I had never met. B and S are a warm and inviting couple who were married in France with M tagging along to Monaco for their honeymoon. Being with them in France piqued M's curiosity about the country and contributed to our meeting. Long story. M chose a restaurant midway Camarillo (where B and S live) and Benedict. The Italian restaurant, Adagio, was warm and confortable and a perfect place for us to have experienced "getting to know you". In fact, we got to know one another so well, time went by too quickly and we closed the place. It was not about the food it was about us. "Us" loved spending an enjoyable time with one another. Expect the unexpected. (Confucius).

SIR

When I was 16 years old a younger boy selling newspapers in downtown Minneapolis addressed me as "Thank you sir". At that moment I was shocked to be called, what I imagined to be, and older person's title of respect. For some strange reason I have always bristled at being called Sir. Last evening upon leaving a restaurant with persons much younger than myself one of them said he was "Happy to meet you, Sir". My retort was "only older persons are called "Sir" and I Am Not That Old!" Of course, I am an older person and later on I realized how ridiculous my comment must have sounded to a person being polite. I do find it rather silly for a clothing designer to have the title of Sir Paul Smith. However, in Britain that is a given name bestowed by the Queen of a person who has extraordinarily contributed talents to the country. Letters are written beginning with Dear Sir. An employee will address the boss as "Sir, may I have a raise in salary"? And on and on. In France my name, Laurence, is considered to be only a woman's name. Often my mail was addressed to Cher Madame. Perhaps being called Sir stirs in me something only the French know, and that is that I am really not a Sir at all. Just joking.......

ON THE ROAD - AGAIN

This is not the Jack Kerouac version. It is a life on the road - well led. This past week M and I took a two hour driving trip to Rancho M., spending a couple of days in a glamorous complex named Morningside as guests of R & J. After perusing the work done on the renovation of our house, M met with the Landscape Contractor and went rock shopping while I lunched and furniture shopped. After spending our days and nights in desert splendor we drove back to Benedict Canyon for the night and the following morning drove up to Carmel, stopping in Montecito for lunch at Via Vai, a great little Italian restaurant. We arrived at the Pine Inn in Carmel a few hours later, wandered around town, had a drink at Doris Day's (yes, THE Doris Day) Cypress Hotel and an easy dinner at La Bicyclette restaurant: drinking good French red wine and hitting the sack (passing out is more like it) at a very early hour. The following bright and sunny morning we motored up to San Francisco. The new California Academy of Science museum in Golden Gate park was our first stop upon arriving. This is definitely a "Do Not Miss" museum. The nature exhibitions are beyond compare. A Green rooftop, a rain forest, an Aquarium. Our afternoon visit ended with a spectacular Planetarium show. Checked into the hotel Ritz Carleton Nob Hill and later joined CK for dinner at the lively Wayfarer Tavern. The next morning, luckily, we caught one of the final days of the sensational exhibition of the Fisher Collection at the Modern Museum. Many big name American artist were shown on two floors comprising of only a segment of the 1100 pieces left to the museum by the founder of the Gap - Donald Fisher. After, we rested our feet in the bar of the Sir Francis Drake hotel where I had a very San Francisco drink - an Old Fashioned. Dinner that evening was at Boulevard, hit a couple of bars with CK,and ended our jam-packed SF weekend. Saturday we drove down Highway 101 stopping in Montecito to dine again at Via Vai for pizza and antipasto della casa accompanied by Chianti Classico. Exhausted, we arrived safe and sound in BH. No more road trips 'till the next saunter down to the desert. Enough is enough!

SUMMER'S END

Yes, I know it is not the 21st but for me and countless others the summer ends on Labor Day. Remember the adage "No white shoes after Labor Day"? The French call the end (after a month) of summer holidays, "Le Rentree". The Return or Re-enter into the real world. School, work and waiting until the next round of holidays. Yesterday was a beautiful day and a beautiful way to end the sumnmer and today the warm weather came to a crashing halt with drizzle, fog and 64 degrees. M and I had hosted a Potluck Labor Day party for 18 good friends. Each person was given a category of food or wine to bring to the festivity. Festive it was with lots to drink, and believe me this group drinks, and good things to eat. Today, M is back at his Landscape Architecture school project and I am looking forward to another holiday. After all, every night can be New Years Eve.....can't it?

MUSIC MAESTRO PLEASE

During the "Season" M and I enjoy countless exciting classical music events at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion and Disney Hall. In the summer our musical life comes to a screeching halt. I have never cared for the Hollywood Bowl. Rarely is there a program I will beat-the-traffic for, and after numerous renovations the sound system still sounds like two tin cans with a string attched. I guess the point of the Bowl is to enjoy an Evening Under the Stars drinking, dining and listening to music, but somehow to me it just ain't worth the effort. So what do we do socially in the summer? We see friends and relax. J&T recently gave an enjoyable cocktail/dinner for two guys visiting from Australia, JP joined us one evening at Waterloo Cafe, visited other restaurants with friends, and have given dinners at home. M has become the Chef de la Cuisine. He enjoys being a grill-er. That sums up our summer social fare. However, there is a serious side to our lives - believe it or not. M has Landscape Architecture classes at UCLA requiring an inordinate amount of homework, I am learning the three movements of a Mozart Sonata: K333 and a Chopin Nocturne. Also, we drive down to Rancho Mirage once a week to checkout the progress on the renovation of our 1957 Wexler house. Life is good, the champagne pink and the chicken greasy. Who could ask for anything more.

MY BIRTHDAY

I never enjoyed celebrating my birthday when I was a child. I won't bore you with the psychological problems I endured, but the most important thing is as an adult, I LOVE MY BIRTHDAYS. To me, every new year is an achievement. Learning new pieces on the piano, speaking French like a native (dropping letters), learning to accept the differences between M and me and realizing that I am healthy and happy. This year was a 3 day celebration. Dinner the 14th was with two visiting French friends at Lucques. An amiable experience. The 15th I hosted, as I like to do on my birthday, a small dinner at Enoteca Drago. As a gift DG brought a bottle of 1990 Lafitte Rothschild. Superb! Quelle robe! Quelle bouquet! We began the dinner with an aperitif of Prosecco/Apero. Conversation was lively and the Italian food matched perfectly with the French wine. The 16th, my actual birthday, M took me to lunch at the restaurant of my choice: Etoile. That evening our friend from Florence Italy, FF, gave a beautiful dinner in my honor at his Los Angeles pied a terre. He entertains on the roof top of his Hancock Park apartment building where the view is extraordinary. Last evening there was a clear sky and a bright half moon. The dinner was the topper to the 3 days of celebration. Italian wine, Panzanella salad, Patate Tonato, etc. Good friends, good food, good ambiance. Another beloved birthday.

HOT AUGUST NIGHTS

This past weekend M and I spent the weekend in Palm Springs. I would have never imagined I would experience desert life during this time of year however, what with the never-ending restoration on our RM house we opted to live the desert life as guests of a friend. True, the days are hot but the soft desert breezes cool the evenings. Although many restaurants were closed for the month, those that were open - such as Tropicale - were booming. Even the locals commented there were an unusual number of visitors for this time of year. During the day we managed to checkout the "in" Resale Consignment furniture store, visit an art gallery, take a test drive in the new 2011 BMW x5, visit the world's gayest True-Value hardware store and hit a few cafes. It ain't St. Tropez but then what is?

THOSE WHO INFLUENCED OUR LIVES: Clarise Etscheid - Teacher

Mrs. Etscheid, a high school teacher of mine, was a chic and striking woman. Think Maria Callas when she looked good. Mrs E. arrived at our school from New York when I was a Junior at North High to teach Choir and English. The first time I saw her in the Choir class I noticed the gray one button suit she was wearing was designed by the English designer Edward Molyneux and the diamond ring on her finger was a Marquis cut - minimum 3 carat. Yes, a budding Gay noted those things. Rumor was that she had been the rehearsal choir director of the Metropolitan Opera and often I wondered what the hell was a woman like that doing teaching in a Minneapolis high school. Mrs. Etscheid had a no nonsense approach to teaching music. She would keep time clapping her hands together in a loud strict military tempo. One day, questioning me in front of the class about a Chopin Polonaise, I purposely mispronounced the word Polonaise because I was embarrassed to say it in front of my classmate in the correct French. She demanded I repeat it correctly and then said a simple phrase I never forgot. "Back your convictions". In my senior year I met some unsavory Drag characters from Miami and one morning she observed me being dropped off (shocking for the time) in a white Lincoln convertible. Later that morning she called me into her office and said "If that is the kind of life you want, there are much much nicer people out there". Two years later I walked into a store in Santa Monica and encountered Mrs E. with her rather effeminate husband. Upon being introduced to him for the first time, I realized he was undoubtedly Gay and she was probably a Lesbian. How wonderful it was to have a teacher who understood and who influenced my life so positively.

OVER THE TOP

At 10AM this morning 6 of us were watching the Metropolitan opera Zeffirelli designed production of Puccini's Turandot at the Century City AMC movie theater. The production was the epitome of what this opera is about. Lavish sets and costumes, cast of thousands (hundred?) exhilarating singing and the most beautiful arias and orchestral arrangements. As in many operas the "beautiful and desirable" feminine lead was not at all either one. In fact in this production she looked exactly like my aunt Fanny. Nevertheless the voices are what it is really all about. Sitting in a very comfortable seat watching a big screen performance is not without its rewards. Good sound, the ability to see the details of the costumes and sets and the whole thing is over in about two hours without intermission. During the Salzburg Festival it is the usual to go to a performance in the morning. Here in Los Angeles the unusual is usual to begin one's day. Opera in a mall is very LA.

A LITTLE THIS AND A LITTLE, ETC.

Variety! It keeps the blood flowing. There was plenty of it this past week. Why oh why didn't I do it before? I had an epidermal on Monday. Finally after years, the pain is gone. Not the thrill is gone - the pain is gone. On the 14th there was a small dinner at Le Petit Bistro given for DH celebrating his 50th birthday and coincidentally Bastille Day. Just 4 of us. Then what with me having physical therapy, piano and French lessons and M going to UCLA studying Architectural Landscaping, it was an interesting week. Even had a big quarterly meeting at the bank (where does all the money go?). The topper was DH's big birthday party (like the Queen celebrates all week) given by his partner BH at their art filled abode in Hancock Park. Lots of very good champagne and a tasty dinner served in the garden. Thirty five happy guests toasted and celebrated. There were warm, emotional speeches by D and B that brought a tear to my old "Irish" eye. And you thought Variety was only a Hollywood trade paper. It is the spice of life - as if you didn't already know that.