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Dazzling, and all that jazz
Everything alive’s had a documentary — except for maybe two poodles traveling in a camper outside Yosemite. Comes now Liza Minnelli. Whom everybody loves, probably even Putin.
She once told me: “I haven’t been laid off since kindergarten. I just keep going.”
Together at Joan Rivers funeral in Temple Emanu-El she said: “MY funeral better be just as big.”
One night she was smoking on my terrace . . . and remembering her last wedding. Also, for some reason and between puffs, showing me photos of herself with Joel Grey.
One time, Liza and Gina Lollobrigida — pals and dental patients of our East Side’s Dr. Marc Lazare — stood at his party hunting for a leading man for a “The Rose Tattoo” revival.
In ’84 she did a tribute to Ethel Merman at the Shubert. Also presented Shirley MacLaine as Woman of the Year.
Also honored Chita Rivera for something somewhere. Also did an album with Gene Simmons of Kiss. Also while Mia Farrow was waiting for her at an East Side restaurant she was home embroidering.
I loved best her last wedding. He wore more mascara than I did.
The ceremony started late and ended late because Maid of Honor Elizabeth Taylor couldn’t find her shoes. This was at a church. She’d left the shoes at the hotel.
Elizabeth wanted the betrothees to rent an airplane for her to go back and locate the shoes. So she had to wear slippers.
Liza decided last minute to forego a headdress. Marisa Berenson held the long long train on her Bob Mackie dress.
Natalie Cole sang “Unforgettable,” which this was. I know because I was a bridesmaid. I was also told to bring a blue garter, which as we know everyone has.
Visiting Liza’s East Side apartment: More Andy Warhols on the wall than paint. Dogs everywhere. My housekeeper remembers one visit to my place.
Not allowed to smoke. She smoked. Supposed to diet. She consumed an entire package of cigarettes and cookies.
So do I love her? Of course I love her. I still love her. I always will.
Stage work takes its tolls
The NY Post’s Steve Cuozzo, whose nose gets into even more real estate than renters:
“Hospitality workers get zonked with nearly $15 in congestion tolls each time they work to support this city we love.
“Shifts end in the early a.m. No mass transit options. They drive to work.
“The Broadway Association is looking to scale back that toll. They’re watching the effect it’ll have on Times Square. And tourism.
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“Those mouths will open wide if it proves the disaster economists predict.”
Genteel soul that I am, I’m just mentioning this.
Lest you not know the Broadway Association, it works to upgrade our Theater District. Last week, lunch at Sardi’s. Honoring Cuozzo and NY1’s Frank DiLella. Steve started as a copy boy. Frank as an intern.
Meanwhile, ticket prices are rising faster than the price of eggs.
A thank you to Miranda, Steve, Keith, Kelly, all the Posties who have called, written, sent some prayers, even food. I needed it and I’m enormously grateful. Even to the Cardinal who said he’d sent some GodBlessYous my way. His Eminence said he’d just visited friends — many of whom are down with remnants of whatever was our pandemic.
I’m appreciative. And, meanwhile, if don’t like this column — keep it to yourself or tell your priest.