The Stupid 365 Project, Day 48: Remarkable People
November 17th, 2010
Just some thoughts about two remarkable people.
My wife and I have a friend, Shirley Levy (a remarkable person in her own right), who saves up copies of Vanity Fair until there’s a stack big enough to sit on, and then calls us to come and get them. This is an optimal way to experience the magazine.
Vanity Fair is 90 percent asinine twaddle and ten percent fascinating journalism, but when you see only one issue each month, it seduces you into reading long sympathetic pieces about the trials of minor European royalty, people who never have and never will hold a job but whose ancestral millions, derived from centuries of persecuting peasants, are dwindling, and isn’t that a shame? Well, no.
But when you get a whacking great bucket of them, you can flip through and read only the quality stuff (and the twaddle that appeals to me personally, of course, since the only real twaddle is stuff that appeals to other people).
So. I was flipping through the current (November) issue, with Marilyn Monroe on the cover, and in the lower right-hand corner of page 139 was a photo of one of Monroe’s diaries. In it, she had written, quite largely, “Rupert Allan,” and a ghost walked into the room . When I co-ran my television consulting firm, we were privileged to have Rupert working with us. A man of tremendous warmth and dignity (the two don’t often go together), he’d been the editor of Look magazine before going into public relations. As a P.R. man he was primarily an interested and always-honest friend, and he served in this capacity to a remarkable assortment of classic-Hollywood stars: Marilyn, James Stewart, Bette Davis, Jeanne Moreau, Marlene Dietrich, Rock Hudson, and many, many, many others. The one with whom he was personally closest was probably Grace Kelly.
One Sunday, Rupert invited my wife, Munyin, and me to his house for a luncheon for Albert of Monaco, Grace Kelly’s son. The back yard was terraced, with tables on every level, and Munyin and I sat at a round table with six other people, one of whom was Ms. Kelly’s one-time co-star, Cary Grant. Few things are usually less inspiring than meeting up close someone you’ve always admired, but Cary Grant really, actually was Cary Grant. He famously said once, in response to a fatuous question from a reporter, “Everyone wants to be Cary Grant, including Cary Grant,” but he really was Cary Grant — charming, urbane, perfectly dressed, absurdly beautiful in his sixties, with the knack of making you feel that you were the only person there who interested him. So, thanks to Rupert, we can say we had lunch with Cary Grant.
Later, when Munyin and I went to Italy, Rupert fixed us up with an American socialite who lived there and who got us rooms in the Hotel Danieli, one of Venice’s most beautiful palaces. But the real angel of that trip was Jonathan Miller.
Most of you are too young to remember “Beyond the Fringe,” but it was the first (so far as I know) semi-improvisational comedy troop, made up of Jonathan Miller, Dudley Moore, Alan Bennett, and Peter Cook, all of whom had met while at Cambridge University. They were insanely funny; they set the tone for Monty Python and a lot of the best British humor of the eighties and nineties.
Jonathan is many things: a medical doctor, specializing in neurology; a film and (famously) opera director; an art expert; and a television personality (“The Body in Question” and other programs). I met him, with a certain amount of foreboding, when he took over the BBC Shakespeare project, on which I was working. I had no idea what to expect — he’s known as someone who doesn’t suffer fools much, if at all, and quite bluntly at that. (He once publicly described the works of Gilbert and Sullivan as “boring, self-satisfied drivel.”)
What I wasn’t expecting was one of the warmest greetings I ever experienced and an offer — made after I’d only known him two days — to use his one day off during the week to drive Munyin and me all the way to Cambridge, where he gave us a grand tour, concluding with evensong in Trinity Cathedral and tea with the master of Trinity. A couple of days later, Jonathan learned we were going on to Italy and sketched out for us an itinerary that took us into tiny, out-of-the-way churches from Venice all the way down to Florence, in which we saw the development of Italian Renaissance painting. An unforgettable trip.
Later, I had the great good fortune to be stranded with him in what was then my company’s New York apartment during a blizzard that closed pretty much everything down. Jonathan hadn’t seen much American cable television then, and for days I wept with laughter as he took it apart and put it together again for hours at a time. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so continuously for such a long time.
There’s not much point to this. The picture of Monroe’s diary started me remembering, and I just decided to remember out loud, so to speak. It’s kind of like Vanity Fair.
Oh, and I want to warn you again that the Thanksgiving story is so far beyond stupid that it’s in new territory — it exists in an absolute vacuum of wit or intelligence. So don’t expect anything.
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Gary Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 3:53 am
My God, are you old enough to remember “Beyond the Fringe,” you youthful chap you?
The clip I still remember was the one about nuclear war. The narrator was explaining the “special relationship” between Britain and the USA at the height of the Cold War, and how Britain would in fact have a veto over the US’s use of nuclear weapons. (And if you believe that, you’ll believe anything.)
He explained how the American President would in the event of a red alert have to phone up the British PM – then Harold Macmillan – and say, “Please, Mr. Macmillan, may I press this button?” And Mr. Macmillan would then say yes… or no… as the mood takes him.
It was a lot funnier in the original audio.
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fairyhedgehog Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 4:57 am
I like hearing about your meetings with famous people.
Sorry I’m not commenting much. Nanowrimo has eaten my soul. Or something like that.
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EverettK Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 7:12 am
Considering that I’ve never read a SINGLE issue of Vanity Fair (don’t think I’ve even cracked a cover), this was SO much better than my experiences reading Vanity Fair (although they DO have nice covers now and then…)
And sheesh! We’re not down-playing the Thanksgiving story just a WEE bit, are we? I knew that a lot of writers tended to be an insecure lot, but this is… the sign of a writer doing something they don’t feel comfortable doing. Stretch, man, streeeeeeeetch. Doesn’t that feel GOOD?
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Suzanna Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 8:47 am
Thank you, Tim. This piece is more than a breath of fresh air.
How fortunate for you that you met Cary Grant and that he lived up to his reputation for charm and good manners. I wish we could bottle his extraordinary listening skills. The world is sorely lacking in good listeners.
Sounds like you shared some wonderful times with Jonathan Miller, who seems like a riot of fun, and quite a gentleman himself for guiding you around Cambridge and helping you with your travel plans.
I agree with everything you said about Vanity Fair. It is my one guilty pleasure to buy a copy whenever I fly. Well, it beats the Sky Mall magazine, anyway.
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Larissa Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 11:21 am
Well, it’s not every day you can say you know somebody who got to have lunch with Cary Grant. It’s fascinating in a way the value we put on people..and meeting people…in your case,the people you’ve met really do seem to (according to your accounts) deserve to be awed over a bit-because they had that something that sets certain people apart.
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Timothy Hallinan Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 12:12 pm
Hi, Gary — I actually looked into “Beyond the Fringe” sort of retroactively, after I realized I was going to have to meet and work with Jonathan. I don’t think I’ve heard anything much funnier in my life. Jonathan and I were in the old Tower Records classical shop years later when Dudley Moore suddenly appeared, and the two of them slipped right into gear, Dudley a clueless social climber who wanted to know JUST ENOUGH about classical music to pick up a girl at a cocktail party and Jonathan as a compulsively detailed professor who found no tiny bit of information too trivial to emphasize at great length. Really, really funny, and (harking back to the piano) taking for granted a hugely rich cultural heritage.
FHH, I know how you feel — I’m going 12 hours a day and not happy with the progress I’m making on PULPED. But whoever said we’d been automatically granted a license to be happy?
Everett, after the Thanksgiving story, a copy of Vanity Fair will look like FINNEGAN’S WAKE in terms of the amount of intelligence required to (a) write it, and (b) find something to enjoy in it. But, yes, I am somewhat concerned with managing expectations, and you would be too if you’d written it.
Sooozzz, that’s what VF is for — airplanes. I usually take three of them (total weight: 120 pounds) on my Asia flights and dip into them in between books. These are LONG flights. My problem is the perfume strips. In the second Junior novel, LITTLE ELVISES, we meet a high-level fence named Stinky Tetwiler, who came from the family that made a fortune by inventing the perfume strip. As Junior says in his narration, “Without Stinky’s family, global fragrance sales would be substantially lower and it would be possible to sleep in the same room as a copy of Vanity Fair.” And Jonathan is at the very top of the list of most interesting people I’ve ever met.
Hi, Riss — I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about “Beyond the Fringe” — in fact, I’m impressed that you remember Cary Grant at your tender age. (Riss is eleven, everybody.) Some time in the not-too-distant future, I’ll tell you my Bill Clinton story, which is really good. Wouldn’t it be terrible if I’d actually lived my entire life in Sheboygan and had never met any of these people? But I didn’t, and I did.
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Suzanna Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 1:05 pm
Hilarious! A perfumers son named Stinky!
Very funny line about not being able to sleep in the same room with a copy of Vanity Fair.
On the other hand, if you fancied the revolting fragrances they normally push in high gloss magazines you’d never really need to buy a bottle of the stuff. So long as you bought the magazines that is.
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Timothy Hallinan Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 5:26 pm
Thanks fo da laff, Soozie. It’s true, the cheapest perfume is made by soaking twelve old copies of VF in 35 gallons of water and then distilling it down to an ounce. C’est magnifique.
Captca: Funhude action Why does that sound so obscene?
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EverettK Says:
November 18th, 2010 at 7:17 pm
I got to thinking about all the pity you’re asking from us for your Thanksgiving story, and that got me to thinking about what kind of story you COULD write for Thanksgiving. And this is what occurred to me:
Junior’s daughter and ex-wife, due to some mess-up at the last minute, are stuck at home by themselves for Thanksgiving without “the fixings.” They invite Junior to come over for the day, but ONLY if he can bring “The Bird.” Well, this is VERY last minute, and Junior’s only option is to steal a bird. But being the ‘decent’ guy he is, he’s not going to steal a bird from just ANYONE. So, he manages, via some entertaining method, to steal the bird from some suitably nasty bad guy.
The rest is just details, which I leave up to you.  “Thanksgiving” could easily be changed to “Christmas,” too, and “turkey” to “goose.”
I herewith release all rights and interests to this plot and story, should you care to run with it at some point and fear being sued by nasty fans.
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Larissa Says:
November 19th, 2010 at 7:15 am
Lol. Eleven eh? Well, it’s tough to find interesting places to go online when you’re not considered a legal adult yet…ahem.
On the note of interesting people and things and politics-go here:
http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/11/13/weekinreview/deficits-graphic.html?hp
It’s fun. We had a surplus when I was done! And I’m a bleeding heart hippie!
I also haven’t decided which is worse-having to walk through the perfume department at most “fancy” stores or opening a copy of Vanity-Glamour-Fair-People.
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Timothy Hallinan Says:
November 19th, 2010 at 9:38 am
This link is fascinating, Riss, even though it leaves out a lot of ways we could save money — but still, it’s an enlightening way to look at some of the cold facts behind the hot air that got the Repugs voted in. And age doesn’t matter on this site, since it’s in unerring good taste. You just have to be too tall to fit in an overhead compartment.
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Timothy Hallinan Says:
November 19th, 2010 at 10:25 pm
Thanks, Everett. I might do that for Christmas. I’m thinking about 2-3 stories for the end-of-year season. Maybe this is one of them. Maybe to play it safe he’ll steal a Cornish Game Hen.
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EverettK Says:
November 20th, 2010 at 7:00 am
Certainly easier to slip a Cornish Game Hen into your pocket…
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Timothy Hallinan Says:
November 20th, 2010 at 9:25 am
Yeah, well, he’s not stupid.
Unlike my Thanksgiving story.
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Jaden Says:
November 20th, 2010 at 8:21 pm
Tim, thanks for sharing these glimpses into famous people. It allows me to meet them vicariously.
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Timothy Hallinan Says:
November 20th, 2010 at 10:44 pm
Thanks, Jaden — I’ve been lucky enough to meet some amazing folks. Next up (I think) is Chuck Jones, the genius behind the Roadrunner and the Coyote.
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