I finally met Patti Lupone. You can’t be on Broadway for long without knowing her legendary status. I had never seen her in anything but she sent me flowers when I was nominated for a Tony Award and we have been emailing. She and Mandy Patinkin are performing in L.A. At the Ahmanson Theatre. A new and compelling compilation of show tunes. She knocked me socks off—and about 3000 other people. I invited her, her husband and son to join me, Carrie Fisher, Richard Perry and my son and daughter-in-law for dinner after the show. Patti turns out to be a real mensch…easy to be with, interesting to talk to and she had so many tips for Carrie Fisher who is coming to Broadway with her one-woman show, “Wishful Drinking” in the fall. We all promised we’d have a reunion at Carrie’s opening.

Carrie Fisher at dinner talking to Patti Lupone.

Hugging my new friend, Patti Lupone

By the way, 2 weeks after knee surgery I am now able to bend my knee 110 degrees.

See you next time.

• Theologian Jim Nelson, “Human sexuality is God’s way of calling us out of separation and loneliness into communication and communion.” #
• RT@keyinfluencer @janefonda thanks 4 being our 1st client. Here’s official launch release http://pitch.pe/16705 >CONGRATS GUYS, SAW CNN #

This is the longest I’ve gone without blogging for some time. But sometimes you just have to let life play itself out without comment. Like so many people, I have been in a wash of images and feelings about Michael Jackson. I knew him as well as one could know him during the time before he did “The Wiz” and up through “Thriller.” I couldn’t pretend to understand him. There were so many complicated signals. Did he want me to be his ‘older women’ friend. He gravitated to older women. For solace? Succor? A beard? Did he want me to teach him the ropes? I never could quite figure it out. But I remember one day he was visiting me at my ranch north of Santa Barbara. It was the first time he had been in that region but he must have liked it because later he bought his ranch in that same area. Anyway, as we walked around the ranch which was perched right at the edge of the mountain overlooking Goleta, I pointed to a spot where I told him I wanted to be buried. Michael had a melt down right then and there when he heard this. He shrieked and bent over and said “no, no, no!” “ What’s the matter,” I asked. “Don’t ever talk about your dying,” he answered. “Don’t ever think about it.”

I think about death all the time. I rehearse my death. I think that’s a healthy thing to do. Death, after all, is what gives life meaning the way noise gives meaning to silence. Ooooh, I thought to myself, Michael will have a hard time of it as he ages. He will spend all his energy trying to flee what is inevitable. And now it’s happened. I like the fact that it was quick. Massive heart attacks that you don’t recover from are quick. You don’t know what hit you. That’s probably the kindest death for Michael. It’s hard to imagine him being happy as he aged. One more demon to try and evade. I like to think he’s happy now, free of his demons. Free and floating and knowing how his art continues to be revered and celebrated by all of us all over the world. It will continue.

Please help stop the Bohemian Club from cutting old-growth redwood trees in the Bohemian Grove in CA.

Left, an undated photograph from inside the Bohemian Grove. Right, John “Jock” Hooper, club member turned redwood crusader. Portrait by Karen Kuehn.

Bohemian Tragedy
Members of the ultra-exclusive Bohemian Club—2,500 of America’s richest, most conservative men, including Henry Kissinger, George H. W. Bush, and a passel of Bechtels, Basses, and Rockefellers—are known to urinate freely against the ancient redwoods that cover their 2,700-acre property. Have they been chopping down the trees as well? According to one former member turned whistle-blower, the San Francisco–based society may have logged some of its old-growth forest. Drawing on his own Ivy League ties, the author investigates, with a daring sortie into the ceremonial kickoff of the Bohemians’ annual encampment.
Click here for the complete article in Vanity Fair

To get involved and for more information please visit these links:

http://www.bohemiangrovelogging.org

The Author of the Bohemian Tragedy Article Alex Shoumatoff’s site http://DispatchesFromTheVanishingWorld.com

Life isn’t a mountain that has a summit. Nor is it a riddle that has
an answer. Nor a game that has a final score. Life is an endless unfolding,
and if we wish it to be, an endless process of self-discovery.
John W. Gardner

• I am stunned. My friend, Michael Jackson is dead. He lived with me for a week on “Golden Pond” set after “Thriller.” #