10/17/22
Newletter130
The Crack of Dawn
I replaced my photo on the header with one of the portraits painted of me by Don Bachardy. Don, as you may recall, was the long-time lover of Christopher Isherwood. But Don is famous in his own right, and his work is in many great museums, like the Museum of Modern Art in NY. When Christopher Isherwood was alive, myself, Don, Chris and our mutual friend, Rick Sandford, all used to go to the movies together. After Chris and Rick died, Don and I continued to go to the movies for a while, but just gave up. Without Rick and Chris it wasn’t the same. Anyway, the last time we got together to see a movie was in 1996. We saw a film on the 3rd St. Promenade in Santa Monica, then walked and talked for maybe an hour. Then we both tried to the remember the name of the unimpressive movie we had just seen, but couldn’t. So we strolled back down the promenade to the movie theater and the name of the movie we both couldn’t remember was Unforgettable (1996).
The just wrote an article about when me, Don, Rick and Chris used to go to the movies together, between 1977-1984. I illustrated it with Don’s paintings. I entitled it, The Christopher Isherwood Movie Club, which is disingenuous because if it was a club, which it wasn’t, it would have been The Rick Sandford Movie Club. I put Chris’s name in the title strictly as a cheap ploy to impress the reader or possibly an editor. But the reality was that Rick went to the movies every day, he chose the movie or movies, and me, Don and Chris could join him if we wanted, or not, but Rick was going to see what he wanted and it wasn’t a discussion. So, I just wrote this article/essay and I called Don, to whom I haven’t spoken in several years. Don is 88, still lives in Chris’s (and his) fabulous house on the coast, and still paints and draws. I called him about two weeks ago, and unlike all of the little dipshits of the present era, Don answered his phone. This isn’t meant to make fun of Don, but he never got with the internet. Knowing that, I was prepared when I spoke with him. It was a joy simply hearing his wonderful voice. I said, “Don, I’ve written an essay about me, you, Rick and Chris going to the movies together.” He immediately said, “Send it to me. I’ll read it.” I said, “Would you like me to send it by regular mail, or as an email?” He said, “I still live at the same address.” I said, “Then I’ll send it there.” I mentioned that I had just finished writing a book, and Don enthusiastically said, “Send it. I’ll read it, too.” People don’t respond like that anymore, at least not to me. I’ve got the manuscript of the book out to possibly ten good friends right now – and it’s a short novel at 44,000 words – and in over a month, maybe two, one person has read it. If I hesitantly bring it up to any of the others, all nine will go into a song and dance about how incredibly busy they are. I have now vowed to never send my writing to anybody ever again. I love writing, but I hate being a noodge. In any case, I didn’t send the book to Don, just the essay. So far I haven’t heard back. Since its got Don’s painting throughout it, I can’t even try to get it published without his permission, which is fine. I wrote it strictly for the purpose of remembering those events. Still, I wouldn’t mind people reading it. Let’s see what Don says.
A fellow named James A. Fitzpatrick made a series of short travel documentaries called “Travel Talks” that were shown in movie theaters from 1931-1955. Mr. Fitzpatrick wrote, produced, directed, and narrated the films. All 222 of them ended similarly, with, “And it is with this thought that we reluctantly bid farewell to Copenhagen, mother city of Denmark.”
And so I reluctantly bid you farewell. Please, have a wonderful day.
I meant your grand dad.
Too busy reading your Judas story to answer the phone…
I hope you can publish that book with the art works by Don Bachardy someday soon. Isherwood was such a good writer — such an excellent writer that I’ve avoided seeing that movie Tom Ford made out of his novel “A Single Man” for fear of having it ruined for me. Thanks again for the stories.