I’ve been restaurant-obsessed since I was a little girl. It’s one thing about me that’s never changed, (much to the chagrin of the going-out-eschewing Mr. X.)

So, as soon as I get anyplace in my travels, I check on where to eat. Even though I half live there, New York is no exception. I have almost more restaurant books and magazines there than I do in L.A!

So, when I read about the “most popular deli in New York” a couple of years back, I knew I’d have to check it out for myself. I have one fun friend there, Helen, who really knows a lot about all kinds of places and events in New York. I love an alive and aware person like that!

So, on a day that we were skedded for a play date, (yes, grown-ups can have those, too!,) she suggested Mile End Deli, since we had both wanted to try it. It’s a bit far away from our ‘hoods, and I really didn’t want to spare much time away from working on my Brooklyn abode, so she even offered to pick-up some sandwiches and stuff and bring it over to my house.

Someone had erroneously described it to her as an “iconic deli,” but this was far from that! [Note: “iconic” means “executed according to a convention or tradition,” which this place is the opposite of. Heck, I'd barely even call it a “deli!”] Thank goodness I wound-up having to do some business in Manhattan that day, so we were able to “take” afternoon tea instead.

But, since the Mile End blurb in the 2013 Zagat began, “Again rated NYC’s No. 1 deli,” I kept it in the back of mind for another day.

My friend, Manny, was helping me at the house, and since we would be passing by the Boerum Hill section of Brooklyn on the way back to the city, when he asked if I wanted to have lunch at some quick little place, I immediately came up with Mile End; he’s a deli lover, and I just desire to try every eatery known to man! Especially nowadays in Brooklyn, with my three-months-a-year time there coming to an end.

After trying to park in that weird neighborhood for about a half hour, (I think I remember there being no left turns, or something like that,) and walking a few very long blocks, we finally arrived! And we were famished, (and fermisht, which fellow deli-goers should understand,) which is usually when food tastes its best. That’s another rule that Mile End breaks because nothing about this place is fabulous in the least, especially the food! I’d like to know who these Zagats voters are because they must be subscribing to the “Vote For The Worst” mentality! This place is barely a deli, let alone the best one in the city! And anyone who truly thinks so cannot be Jewish, because if my people are experts on one thing, it’s delicatessens! [Note: here's an example of their non-classic deli fare : “romaine & radicchio salad with green apple, pistachio, buttermilk dressing.” Messrs. Carnegie and Katz are rolling over in their graves!]

So we finally get there, and it’s minuscule! I swear, my small-ish walk-in closet is bigger! There are three picnic tables inside, (complete with the requisite hard wood, no-back benches, another reason to say, “oysh,”) so you’ll most likely be sitting right up close to a stranger. And, on this hot day, there was no air-conditioning! So, if you also have that sticky experience, you’ll most likely have to find someplace to shower after. Ugh. There are about five counter stools, as well. This is definitely not the place for claustrophobes, such as myself!

The service was okay, but nothing to write home about, either. The servers and kitchen peeps didn’t exactly look fresh, though, so that just added to the un-appetizing-ness of the place. We were actually relieved that we didn’t have time to “dine.” (But I must laud them for being really helpful on the phone, all three times that I’ve called there. That’s a major bonus.)

Granted, we tried only three menu items, but that’s actually about a quarter of their entire menu, so I think it’s a fair share to do a review of.

We asked what would be ready the fastest, since we were time-constrained. I wound-up with the weirdest reuben sandwich ever! It did have the obligatory corned beef, cheese, and Russian dressing, but there was cole slaw instead of sauerkraut, and, in place of the classic rye bread, it was on seeded pumpernickel…with raisins!!! OMG! (And not in a good way.) And it was so wet from the overuse of said dressing, that it literally crumbled in my hand and was so unattractive to consume. Don’t ever order it on a first date! (If this is where your gentleman caller chooses to take you on a first date, run from the guy! Unless you’re both faux hipsters, then attendance here is de rigueur.) The sweetness of the raisins really did not blend well with the meat.

Speaking of meat, all of it appears to be smoked! The fish, too. What’s up with that?!

Manny choked down the basic roast beef sandwich, and said it was the worst he ever had. And remember—he’s the deli lover. He said the only thing that would have made it worse is if, after the long trek back to the car, we had gotten a ticket!

We just had to order the signature side dish—poutine. These are a basic dish in Canada, and that’s where the main owner is from. It’s fries with cheese curds and gravy, which in this case is roasted chicken gravy; it got a mixed reaction from us. Having been to Canada lots of times in my life, I knew what to expect. I know that cheese curds are kind-of gross to begin with, but I figured I could move them aside. Thank goodness I asked for the fries to be well-done, or they would have been total mush under the gravy. But I liked the basic fries, and the gravy, too, and was satisfied with that dish.

Manny, however, thought it was downright disgusting. He did like the few individual fries that he was able to save from the toppings’ onslaught, but hated the rest. And since this dish is a true example of “different strokes for different folks,” I’m sure there are customers who love it. If it’s not nauseating enough for you as is, guess what you can add to it? Meat. Smoked meat, of course! But let me tell you, I could not watch anyone eat that! Triple ugh. [Note #2: I can barely watch people I know chow-down on deli food, let alone the strangers inevitably seated with you at this place!]

They also sell a cookbook that they claim “is packed with 100 Jewish comfort food recipes from our delicatessen.” Well, that’s interesting because they have only about a dozen items on their super-limited menu!!! From whence came the other eighty-eight???

I understand that there’s an almost-as-small branch (but with none of the character) in Manhattan now, so you can have have your choice of where not to go!

www.mileenddeli.com

Now that I have hi-def TVs, I sometimes wish that I didn’t. We got them to be able to see last summer’s Olympics in all their glory, and that situation was great. The images of London were just spectacular. And I can’t wait to see all the fireworks shows next Fourth of July.

But now the reality sets in. We get to see every…single…person who’s on television the way they look in person, which is usually far from great, and even worse, we now have giant screens as well. In many cases, these people look terrible.

I’m not saying that I’d fare any better if I were still doing my show, but at least I have good teeth and hair and not many wrinkles. Yet.

Here’s my list of people I’ve seen so far in hi-def whom I wish I hadn’t, and the feature that got them on this list. [Note: as I'm writing this, I actually feel bad about it. Most are probably nice people, but I thought you'd enjoy a little snarking. And it's not meant to be mean at all, or even funny, for that matter. It's just honest.]

See if you agree, and if I missed anyone. [Note #2: I actually wrote most of this list about ten months ago, which explains the plethora of sports personalities on it, but have been sitting on it because I was worried that perhaps it's a tad too honest. So, just take it with a grain of salt, and if you're not an on-screen personality, count your blessings nowadays!]

Hope Solo.

Hope Solo—her skin is as rotten as her personality.

Will Ferrell–skin and teeth

Gabby Douglas—teeth, especially bottom ones, and skin and hair

Michael Keaton—wrinkles galore

Dennis Murphy (reporter on Dateline)—dandruff

Bobby Valentine (former Mets and Red Sox manager)– I used to think he was kind-of cute-looking, for an older, rough man, but when I saw his nose hair, and even worse, his ear hair, I almost threw-up!

Jordyn Wieber—I hate including her in here, because she already had all that sadness in the Olympics, but as bad as I feel for her, did you notice her uneven nostrils? I wonder if that can be fixed.

Serena Williams—take your pick here from among the plethora of things I didn’t want to see: sideburns, moustache, splotchy skin, and disheveled brows. But I do give her credit for losing weight. (At least she had when I first put her on this list many months ago. I haven’t seen her recently because I didn’t pay much attention to the recent French Open.)

John McEnroe–his white nose hairs are what inspired this column to begin with!  But, after suffering through having to look at his pasty-white skin, and dull white hair, during the Olympics, I was thrilled to discover that he got a spray tan and colored his hair for the US Open!  Trust me on how much those small changes helped! Let’s hope he’s kept them up for next week’s Wimbledon coverage.

Tracey Austin–wrinkled face and arms! I’m sure that’s all due to her many hours on the outdoor tennis courts, especially in the years before sunscreen. Let that be a lesson to all you sun lovers! Still has the lovely hands and nails, though.

Megan Hilty—I’ve seen her on every episode of Smash, and even in person at a show she did in town a few years ago, but I had never noticed that her arms and chest are full of very dark moles!!! So, I guess that hi-def could become a dermatologist’s dream!

Steve Buscemi–teeth, of course! I always wondered how his wife could kiss him, and then, on an awards show walk-ins, I noticed hers are bad, too!

Tina Fey—mouth scar. I didn’t know it was that bad. But it sure hasn’t kept her down! Good to know. But I hadn’t realized she had a nose job until hi-def!

Emily VanCamp—big nose, little teeth, no lips, and drooped eyelids. But somehow, she’s still attractive! You go, girl.

On the good side: tennis commentator Mary Jo Fernandez’s hair is even more shiny and gorgeous!

First Hair in the Bensonhurst section of Brooklyn is one of my favorite beauty places, on either coast! Even though I used to talk about it often on my Los Angeles show, Karen’s Restaurant Revue, I hesitate to write about it because, selfishly, I don’t want it to get harder to get into than it already is. (But I know the secret times to go.)

Years ago, my friend Patti honked in front of my house there one evening, and when I went outside, she said, “Grab you purse and come on.” When I inquired where we were going, she answered, “To my hair place!”

I didn’t even need my hair blown at the time, but I went anyway, just to be a pal. Even though some people think I’m a control freak who has to be the one in charge, that’s only because I know few others who come up with entertaining activities. So, when I have a fun friend who knows what to do, I’m more than willing to go along.

First Hair is the one with the purple awning.

What I witnessed at First Hair made me go back there for myself the second my hair needed it. (And evermore!)

[Note: for the girls who live in Brooklyn, and know there are other places like this, please also know that I'm aware of them, as well. It's just that I can't imagine one better than this, and the reasons are forthcoming. For others, I do have to tell you that there are many hair places like this in that town, but I can't vouch for any but First Hair.]

Okay, I’m going to give you the deets of what goes on there. They also do cuts, color, and whatever else your hair-style requires. They have a nail salon in the back, too. But the two main attractions are the blow-outs and the shampoos. Yes—the shampoos!!! In all my years of going to upscale salons, I’ve never encountered anything like it.

[Sidebar: I know that “blow-dry bars” have popped-up all over Los Angeles in the past few years, and, I swear, I think that I'm responsible! I used to talk about First Hair on my show all the time, and said I wanted to open one like it here in LA. Well, wouldn't you know that the first one showed-up here within a year! I don't think it's a coincidence. But they're all nothing compared to the ones on 86th Street in Brooklyn!]

Okay, here’s the experience: You go in, put on a smock, and then lie down, (yup, that is correct—lie down,) with your head in an almost-flat stone sink. There’s none of that usual discomfort of hurting your back trying to get your head back without your feet lying out, too! Or the pain of the edge of the sink digging into your neck.

I’m sure all the shampooers are fabulous, but none moreso than Winnie and Jamie. (I hate pointing others in their direction, but I have to give props where they’re deserved.)

This is no ordinary shampoo. No–it’s a spa experience! Right there in Bensonhurst! They not only shampoo and condition your hair, but depending on who you get, they also massage your neck, shoulders, upper back, and forehead!!! And not just for a second, either. Each shampoo lasts about fifteen minutes! Sometimes more! (I won’t even tell you how much time Jamie gave me last month!)

Then, if you’re coherent enough to make it to your stylist’s chair, you get your hair blown. My guy is John, who’s like a magician with the blow-dryers! He uses two small ones in one hand! And even my waist-length hair is done in about ten minutes. He’s amazing.

And what’s the cost of all this luxury and beauty? I’ll let you calculate it for a second. Ready? I’ve asked other hair pros what they think, and some have come up with $200., while others have realized I wouldn’t be happily telling them about it unless it’s a bargain, so they guess $50. They’re all wrong because the average cost at First Hair is $12.!!! They always feel bad telling me that because I have “enough hair for ten people,” (knock on wood,) they have to charge me more–$16.!!! [Note to First Hair—please don't change your prices if you're reading this! At least, not for me!] [Note #2: sorry about all the exclamation points, but they're necessary for this revelation.]

One more note about John: on my recent trip, I let him in on the fact that I had just cut my own bangs, and not that well. He showed me that they didn’t even start in the correct place, and re-did the whole shebang for me, gratis! They looked gorgeous. I was in New York for so long that they grew in great, but too long for me to see through. I won’t go into detail, but when I was out of town for a couple of days, someone, who shall remain unidentified, cut them too short, and made a disaster out of the sides of them, too. It was pitiful.

When I went back to see John the next week, I embarrassedly showed him what had happened, not expecting him to do anything but shake his head. I couldn’t see any way they could be fixed without waiting at least a month for them to grow in. Without skipping a beat, he fixed them!!! Perfectly! Mr. X and I are still marveling over them!

And in doing so, John made my whole look better! I don’t even know if he knows what he did, but people are telling me I look great again, without knowing what it is. It’s the shape of my bangs! Trust me.

So, when my several-a-year trips to New York come to an end (which will, very sadly, be sooner rather than later,) what I’ll miss more than even Nathan’s hot dogs and the incredible ice cream at Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, will be going to First Hair. Or to be correct, walking out the door looking great.

Thanks John and company, for showing me what a hair salon experience should be! And, if ever you expand to the West Coast, please let me be the first to know!

2477 86th St. Brooklyn, New York ‎ 718-333-2188‬

I feel like I often ignore Father’s Day. Of course, part of it is that I haven’t had a father since I began this e-zine, so it’s not really in my consciousness.

Another part is that it just never seems to have the luster that Mother’s Day does.

And growing up, there wasn’t much that my father wanted in the way of presents. All we ever got him seemed to be pistachio nuts! Now that I’m sort-of an adult myself, I realize that there might have been other gifts he’d like, but not even my mother seemed to be privy to them. She always got him Whitman’s Samplers because of a famous family story.

I just realized that I’ve never told it here before! I didn’t sit down to write this tale at all! I was just planning to say a few quick words, and then wish all fathers a happy day. But since I just mentioned it, I realize it’s a good Father’s Day story, so here it is:

My father was a little boy in Russia when his father went to the United States, with the plan to bring over his wife and son. My father was walking with his mother one day, when he was only four, when suddenly, his mom died right there, holding his hand.

He had to live with relatives for three long years, until his father could send for him. (I’m already tearing-up, from just that part of the saga.)

Finally, this young boy got sent off on his own, on a big ship to America. His relatives gave him a Whitman’s Sampler for the trip. My poor father had never had something as wonderful as a brightly-colored box of chocolates, and was thrilled!

But, being a generous young guy, (which continued throughout his life,) he went around the ship and offered everyone a piece first, before even thinking of taking one for himself. Alas, every single piece got gobbled-up by others, and he had none left for himself.

The famous double-decker Whitman's Sampler.

He went back to his quarters on the ship, (which was probably just a chair,) and went to throw the empty box away. As he tossed it, he heard something rattling around in there. Lo and behold, it was Whitman’s famous bottom layer!!! Having never had one before, he didn’t realize it was a double-decker box!

So, he wound-up with an entire half a box of chocolates for himself!

How wonderful is that story?! So, the most romantic things my parents ever did for each other is that my mother got always got him those boxes, for every occasion, and sometimes “just because.” And I can’t look at one without smiling. Although, trust me, I would have taken all my favorite pieces for myself first! On both layers!!!

So, to all the fathers out there celebrating this week-end, I wish you a memory as good as this one.

Happy Father’s Day!

At a recent holiday barbecue, when some guests asked me what my favorite restaurant in Los Angeles is, without hesitation, I replied, “Back on the Beach!”

They then said that they don’t think I ever officially reviewed it in this e-zine, which I absolutely could not believe. (I’ve made mention of it a few times, though.) Fans of my show used to think I was part owner because I talked about it so much! And I definitely reviewed it during my gigs at Beverly Hills People, the Culver City News, and the Bay City News. But what an oversight to never have done it right here!

So, I realized it was time for a couple of almost-summer visits there, especially to review their new dinner menu. But there’s so much to say about this place that I hardly know where to begin!

The big news at Back on the Beach Cafe is that they now serve beer and wine, including at the tables outside! And an entire drink menu is forthcoming, which will include sake cocktails.

Side view of the outdoor dining area.

For the summer, they’re open from eight in the morning to eight at night daily, serving all three meals. I basically love everything there, but breakfast is the star.

I’ll tell you about the heavenly fare in a minute, but first I have to describe the scene. The cafe is indoor-outdoor, so you can sit at umbrella-ed tables right in the sand, or inside, looking out at the beach from there. There’s also a great room for private parties. I witnessed one for a twelve-year-old recently, and wondered why the kids weren’t making a lot of noise. Turns out, they were making use of the playground right outside the side door! They were close-by, but didn’t disturb us dinner patrons even one little bit!

The café is adjacent to the famous Annenberg Beach House, so after you eat, you can always go to that venue, and either explore or use the beautiful pool. (Check on admission prices and rules first.) Or you can rent beach equipment right from Back on the Beach for the day. They also have a magazine stand, in case you forgot to bring your own beach reading materials. The clever ideas there just go on and on. (Check the “Rentals” section on their website for all the deets. You’ll be amazed!)

The week-end brunch scene is where it’s at. Diners are willing to wait a long time to get seated, but they never seem to mind because waiting is actually part of the fun experience.

People like me, (who crave the food, love a morning beach situation, never have time to wait anyplace, and have week-day mornings free,) can choose to go there Monday-Friday. It’s the same great food and atmosphere, but a little less hectic.

One such visit for me was just the other day, when I wanted to give out-of-town visitors, Thomas and Anita, a royal send-off. They opted to sit on the beach, and we got a table that was in both the shade and sun, to accommodate all of our likes.

Along with what Anita deemed “lovely views in all directions,” (even when she was looking just at me!,) we appreciated the warm and accommodating service we received from Angel, a long-time server there. I swear, I’ve never seen that man in a bad mood! (Even when he’s had to work with an occasional tough customer who’s joined me.)

Finally to the food! Breakfast is up first, then lunch and dinner in the next few paragraphs.

We started with mimosas, which were served in the perfect plastic glasses; each had an indentation for the thumb! Smart tumblers and even better mimosas!!!

We also ordered the regular fresh-squeezed OJ, that was not only tasty, but contained the most generous, not-expensive portion of the juice that any of us had ever seen! (When people in their ’20s comment on that, you know it’s impressive!) Anita loved her cappuccino, as well.

Everything we ate was delicious. And equally as generous in portion-size as the OJ. We began by sharing a fresh fruit plate. Since we couldn’t finish even one dish, (and I agree with the Pope about not wasting food, though I still don’t see how it would be “stealing from the poor,”) I took the rest of the fruit home to Mr. X, who eats fruit every day. He said it was the freshest he’s ever tasted!!!

The most delicious potatoes in the world! YUM! Photo by Karen Salkin.

I ordered the sides of bacon and potatoes as my meal, which is the supreme breakfast to me, and let me tell you, they were the best I’ve ever had! I’m still dreaming of them! As Anita said, the bacon was cooked perfectly—no fat, like we see everywhere else! It was the perfect crispness, without my having to tell them how to do it.

I ordered the potatoes well-done, but they may come like that to begin with. I even ate them without ketchup, that’s how scrumptious they were!

Anita’s scrambled e-words were really good, too, and she loved that they came with a mini scone! It added a touch of elegance to a basic dish.

Thomas said his “delicious” huevos rancheros, that come with black beans and rice, were “better than the best” he’s ever eaten!

I created an interesting concept here, which you can use, too: dessert with breakfast!!! Since I hate e-words, and usual pancakes, etc. are boring to me, I lean towards ordering something with chocolate when I go out for a morning meal. At Back on the Beach, the bacon and potatoes were so attractive that I just had to go with them. But I was still craving a specialty item I noticed on the menu: bananutella french toast! I knew I must have it also, but when it came to the table, it was so gigantic that I had to share it with my pals…as dessert! It was a stroke of brilliance, if I do say so myself.

The bananutella french toast. Photo by Karen Salkin.

The French toast had six pieces, rather than the usual four, and was topped by the perfect combination of nutella, fresh banana slices, and slivered almonds. The bread itself had a little extra flavor to it, and it was downright heavenly. And, again, generous–even with three of us working on it, I took half of it home.

Something I’m amazed at is that I never ate again that day, except to finish my bacon and potatoes, and have one more portion of the nutella toast. I guess that proves that breakfast really is the most important meal of the day! At least on Back on the Beach.

The lunch menu features salads, sandwiches, and a few entrees. The nine-item kids menu is full of classic choices, including the kosher hot dog that I would have begged for if I had seen it in advance. (As I mention at every restaurant, I am my mother’s kid, so I’m entitled to use the kids menu.)

I always gravitate towards two salads that are unique to Back on the Beach. The Marion Davies, (named after the actress girlfriend of William Randolph Hearst, owner of the original property here) is a lovely combination featuring cranberries, caramelized walnuts, and blue cheese. Everyone’s favorite is the signature Fred’s Salad, created by the owner, Fred Deni. It almost defies description, but includes chicken salad and potatoes in a caesar-esque dressing, that’s a bit lemon-y. How’s this for an endorsement?: I’m far from a lemon lover, but I can’t stop eating it! You just have to trust me on this one and try it for yourself to understand the attraction.

One of the few reasons I’m happy that summer’s here is that now Back on the Beach serves dinner. Yay! What a lovely way to enjoy the sunset on the beach! Mr. X and I went there last week to see what Executive Chef Felipe Mares was cooking up.

We lucked-out with the night we were there because they had made some of their catering appetizers, (whose names I don’t remember,) and shared with us! OMG, were they terrific!

Perhaps a little too terrific, because we were too stuffed after scarfing them to try-out many other dishes. But we were ultra-pleased with the ones we chose.

We shared a perfect summer salad, the grilled stone fruit one, that featured summer peaches that night. The other ingredients are arugala and my favorite substance of all time, burrata cheese!!! Yum-my!

My grilled skirt steak was well-seasoned, but the potatoes au gratin and charred broccolini that accompanied it were even better!!! And I’ve never liked that vegetable anywhere else!!!

The gorgeous grilled salmon. Photo by Karen Salkin.

Mr. X could not have been happier with his pan-seared salmon, with leeks, lentils, roasted tomatoes, and a lemon aioli. He said the portion was “huge,” and the salmon itself was “fresh, succulent, melt-in-your-mouth.” He’s still raving about it days later, and wishes we lived closer to the beach so he could have it all the time. Would that be a crazy reason to move? Perhaps not. (Note: if you’re not a fan of fish skin, ask them to remove it before cooking.)

The smore preserve dessert. Photo by Mr. X.

As we know by now, dessert is my favorite part of any meal, (as witnessed by my breakfast dessert invention above,) and we were thrilled with these. Though there are only three of them, it was quite enough. We eschewed the summer berry cobbler for the giant cinnamon roll bread pudding and the “smore preserve,” and absolutely loved both! The smore concoction of chocolate pudding, house-made graham crackers, and marshmallow brûlée comes in a cute jar, so it’s visually fabulous, as well.

One last note: I’ve long used their catering for my many soirees, both on-site and off, and I highly recommend them for that, too. I don’t delude myself thinking that my guests show up for me; it’s one hundred percent for Back on the Beach’s food! In addition to the delicious fare, owners Fred Deni and Jim Crystal know how to make each fete look just right for the occasion.

Okay, I have to go plan another party there right now! Although, any meal at Back on the Beach is already a party unto itself!

445 Pacific Coast Hwy.  Santa Monica  310-393-8282  www.backonthebeachcafe.com

One of the few places to still be around from the time of my teen-age arrival in Los Angeles is the iconic Sportsmen’s Lodge in Studio City. But I never knew it was a hotel until last week! I thought it was just an event venue, with a coffee shop that you had to go to at least once before you were able to call yourself an actor in this town!

So, when I got invited to the launch of the make-over of the entire place, I was interested. I had been to a good friend’s fun holiday soirée here many years ago, (which, in an odd way, began me on my clubbing life,) and had good memories of the place, with its waterways and bridges.

A coffee shop booth. Photo by Karen Salkin.

The event itself was short and sweet. We met at the crack of dawn, (well, actually 10AM, but that is the crack of dawn for me!,) in a walled-off section of the coffee shop, which was fun. They served juice and muffins, (none of which I was attracted to, but as this e-zine states, sometimes It’s Not About Me!) A kind man there got me some rye toast, and I was fine, (although a chocolate chip muffin would have hit the spot!)

First up were a few brief speeches to let us know what the basic plan for the space was. I was most impressed with the fabulous hotel terms employed by Larry Broughton, the CEO and founder of the company that’s over-seeing the multi-million dollar make-over. My favorite was when he was was being grilled about what it will be like to drive-up and check-in, etc., he asked the questioner, “You mean “the arrival experience?” Classic. (He’s probably the one I should have told to drop the moniker “gossip area” for a section of the new lobby. That’s so negative! I told the woman who was leading my tour to change it to “conversation area” as soon as it’s ready to be used. You’re welcome, all future users of the space!)

The new pool area. Photo by Karen Salkin.

Following the informative chat, we broke off into groups for a tour. The gorgeous Olympic-sized pool was up first, decorated with all colors I love. Then we moved on to the hotel rooms. Being a fan of old-fashioned-looking things, I didn’t see anything wrong with the old ones, but the new ones are quite chi-chi, so I can understand the renovations. (And it was a cute touch to have elegant mimosas all ready for us in the rooms. They added such a splash of complimentary color! And portent of romance, to boot!) Added bonus: great lighting in the new bathrooms!!! That’s actually more than a bonus—it’s the main attraction to girly-girls like moi!

A new room.

The one thing I didn’t like, at all, was the antlered-and-dead-animal-heads bar area, (even though I think they’re fake, but I wasn’t about to look any closer to ascertain just what was what,) but hopefully it will be dark enough to not notice. Good thing I don’t drink, so I can avoid spending time there in the future! (My mother would be so proud, because she hated those things, too. I guess this apple doesn’t fall far from that tree!) I can never understand why any place still uses that décor! It’s dated and soooo unpopular in these PETA-aware days! And it screams “creepy-bar-in-rural-Colorado,” not “upscale lounge in LA!” (They still have plenty of time to re-do it before the official re-launch later on in the year, though, so fingers crossed for that.)

I plan to check it all out in the Fall, when the renovations are due to be done. I may even throw a PJ party in a room one night! So, I’ll give you the complete deets then. (On Sportsmen’s Lodge, not the pajama party! Although you never know with me.) But, if you’re a design or construction fan, you might want to go check out the work in progress sooner. And then you can tell me!

Last year, on the advice of Lily Tomlin, I live-tweeted my thoughts on the Tonys telecast. While that was an interesting experiment, it took away from my own enjoyment a bit, even though my friend Betsy, with whom I was watching at my Brooklyn house, didn’t mind it. She texts a lot anyway, so using technology during a show was basically no biggie to us. Except for me.

So, safely back in LA for this year’s edition, here are some of my thoughts on the show, in the order they happened:

I’m grateful that I was just in Radio City Music Hall a few weeks ago, so that I can better picture the live experience.

Great opening number! You go, Neil Patrick Harris!

First announced winner of the evening, Courtney Vance, was a cool customer.

Hey, NPH–Anne Frank is never to be joked about! Never!!!

I love the dress trick from Cinderella, which included her hair! No wonder that costume designer won!!!

So far, the show is mainly excellent entertainment.

Martha Plimpton.

Martha Plimpton‘s red dress is the best one so far! [Note: by the end of the night, she'd won the title!]

That kid playing Michael Jackson in Motown, The Musical is the best they could find? I don’t think so.

I’m happy for Cindy Lauper, for her composing win for Kinky Boots.

But why did they play Madonna music for her, rather than her own???

Jane Lynch sang great.

The “cancelled television show” bit was hysterical. What a really clever, creative, and self-deprecating approach for this talented quartet!

I loved seeing the Young Rascals, although none of them are young anymore, and I have a feeling they don’t have much rascal left in their beings, either. Mr. X rightly observed that Felix Cavaliere looked a bit like Ben Kingsley now! The group, though still so talented, made me realize something not good about myself–I get a bit uncomfortable seeing people who’ve aged so much.

Seeing Neil Patrick Harris tongue-kiss a dog, in hi-def, on a giant screen, was downright disgusting! The Tonys pride themselves on being a classy show, but this is one of the worst sights I’ve ever seen on TV! Seriously. [Note: I don't believe for one second that he referred to Mike Tyson with the n-word in the opening number, (as some sites are alleging now,) but he does owe us a huge apology for performing an act that basically amounts to bestiality! I'm not kidding. It's not funny.]

The number from Phantom of the Opera was pretty much a waste of our time. And were they lip-syncing? If so, why?

NPH–Enough with the Mike Tyson jokes already!!! His appearance at the Tonys to begin with was never even explained, and I would bet money on that most of the viewers were left wondering about it! Let me clear it up for you: It’s because he did a limited-run one-man show this past year. (If, as Mr. X did before he saw it with me, you’re wondering just what he did in it, and you missed my review, you can read it here: www.itsnotaboutme.tv/news/2013/03/10/theatre-mike-tyson-undisputed-truth.)

Billy Porter, winner for Kinky Boots, gave a great speech. [Note: at the end of the night, it was the best one!]

Winner Cicely Tyson had a great save at the end of her speech. She had dramatically thanked everyone for welcoming her “home,” with arms outstretched. She obviously expected applause here, and that would have ended her acceptance speech. But none came. So, blown away a bit by that lack, she uncomfortably read the “please wrap it up” sign off the teleprompter. Mr. X and I were so uncomfortable witnessing this. But then, she miraculously pulled it out, by saying, “Well, that’s exactly what you did with me; you wrapped me up in your arms after thirty years.” Impressive save.

Patina Miller.

Pippin Best Actress, Patina Miller is so in shape! I’m jealous of her arms. I don’t quite get the coupling with her fiancee, though, but I love her dress, which is second to only Martha Plimpton’s.

Kinky Boots didn’t look that good. (The white lead guy, Stark Sands, was on NYC 22, an unsuccessful TV cop drama last year, and had no personality. So, I was shocked to see him do this! He was so where he’s supposed to be now.)

I’m so glad to see Bernadette Peters looking good again, after the shocking death of her young husband some years ago. She’s looked drained ever since, until tonight.

Overall, this was a good Tonys show, and it ran less than ten minutes over! Take that, other awards shows!

While the whole shebang was basically fabulous, there were two things I hated about it. The first was the idiocy of having characters from old shows introduce bits from the new ones. It fell totally flat, in my opinion. No one seemed to know what was going on. It was very confusing, I’m sure especially for casual viewers. For example, they had a woman from the musical Chicago do it twice, introducing her as “Velma Kelly.” Broadway-goers might realize that’s the character’s name, not the actress’, but I could just hear someone from the middle of the country saying to her husband, “This Velma is very good. I wonder why I never heard of her before?” I would guess that’s the reaction of ninety percent of the viewers!!! Is there no other way to get new interest in theatre than to do stupid bits?

The other think I loathe is something that the general public doesn’t know about, but I’m privy to some insider info, from a few different sources, as a matter of fact. The musicians are not only not in the pit during the show, they’re in an entirely different building!!! In a televised event that relies heavily on the music, how can they treat the purveyors of said tunes so shabbily??? Let the guys and gals feel like they’re a part of it! C’mon, Tonys producers! Give them a break next year!

The best thing to happen for me during the telecast is that I’ve finally understood the appeal of Jake Gyllenhaal, other than that he’s always been an outstanding actor! But he’s never done anything else for me before. That all changed when he leaned down to help Cicely Tyson up the stairs, in a gentle and not condescending way, and helped her all the way to the microphone. (He was whispering something to her, and I have a feeling he told her he’d hold the heavy statuette for her until she was done speaking.) I melted. And now I get it. So, thanks, Tonys, for doing something not even the Oscars have done! Make me get a slight crush on Jake!

Tonight is the semi-finals of Season 4 of The Voice, and I realized that I haven’t weighed-in on the show since April! So, let me rectify that situation right now.

This is the first season I’ve really enjoyed! (Outside of the crazy elimination of who should have been the winner, Judith Hill.) I stand by my earlier assessment…of everything about the show! (If you missed it in April, you can read it here: www.itsnotaboutme.tv/news/2013/04/08/television-the-voice—season-4.)

The only slight change is that my respect for Shakira has grown even more! She is so adorable and caring! I wish she was my friend. I love people whose thoughts and emotions you can read on their faces. And, even though she really can’t sing herself, I was shocked to discover that she can truly guide people in the music biz! That’s a talent in itself. (And, I just read somewhere that she’s a Mensa member, with an IQ of 140. That’s only seven points below mine!)

(From L to R) Amber Carrington, The Swon Brothers, Danielle Bradbery, Sasha Allen, Michelle Chamuel.

I’m still a bit confused over the audience’s apparent love for Usher’s charge, Michelle Chamuel, though. She seems like the nicest person, and sings well enough, but not great, and does nothing for me. But I think that everybody left in the competition is good. Some of them just must sound better in person, to justify the wild applause and standing ovations.

The only thing I hate is all the smoke the mentors keep blowing up the competitors’ butts. They throw props around like, “You’re the most important person in country music right now,” and “There’s no one else like you out there,” etc. because, really, have any of us ever heard of any of the past contestants ever again, except for an occasional guest appearance on this show??? The answer is no. I’m the only person I know who even remembers the name of the first winner, (*okay, think for a second, and the answer will be at the end,) and even I don’t know the names of the next two.

So, we can hope for the best for this year’s crew, but we, and they, should keep our expectations of their futures low. I must say, though, that that young country girl on Blake’s team, Danielle Bradbery, does seem like she’ll make it in her genre; she doesn’t seem special to me, but that branch of the biz always seems more open to giving people chances to grow. And she just looks right for them. And you know Blake will push for her to get in there.

As the season went on, I did realize that this new system of losing anybody from any team at any time is definitely more fair to the competitors, (as opposed to the old “one from each team” approach,) but now I feel bad for the coaches who could wind-up with no members for the finale. Adam and Blake do seem more invested in the outcome than usual because of the change. [Note: it may have been that way last season, as well, but I didn't get to watch any of it, so I don't know.]

I personally hope that fellow Brooklyn girl, Sasha Allen, is the victor, but I equally like the Swon Bros. It seems like the one to take it all will be one of the aforementioned females, though, Danielle or Michelle. But everyone was sure it was going to be Judith until her shocking elimination two weeks ago, so no one really knows. There could be a shock at the end, and low-key Amber Carrington could just pull it out. We’ll all find out together next week.

*The first season winner was the wonderful Javier Colon, of whom I haven’t heard since that finale!

I’m really sad about the death of ’40s and ’50s film icon, and champion swimmer, Esther Williams, yesterday.

I knew Esther way back in the day, when I was just starting my career.  My first acting gig was directed by her husband, Fernando Lamas, whom I adored.  But I was much more excited to meet Esther!

She was even more darling as I had expected.  Actually, at that point in life, I never really had any pre-conceived notions about anyone. I was just so excited to see her in person, let alone meet her! And I was thrilled that I was being introduced by her husband, rather than just being a fan accosting her someplace. And her being as nice as she was was the icing on the cake.

I told her how, when I was little, my parents would get me to take baths by letting me be “Esther Williams” in the tub! (I had a love of old movies even back then. And color ones were just a marvel!)

I also re-counted the story of how, when Mr. X and I had recently been living in Toronto while he starred in a musical there, and the people we contracted with for a condo for the summer had neglected to put in any furniture, thus stressing him to the max, I entertained him by putting on a one-piece suit (that I even owned one is a miracle,) and splashed around in the tub when he’d get home, reprising my “Esther Williams” routine for him, using a shiny belt as one of her fancy hair adornments! (A girl’s gotta improvise occasionally.)

She loved it, and offered to give me one of her old swimming headdresses the next time she saw me, which we both expected to be soon, since we were now both part of the same social group.

But, alas, Fernando got sick and passed away soon after, and I never saw her again.

Several years later, I had my chance again when I was invited to the L.A. party for her autobiography being published, but I was in New York at the time, so therefore couldn’t make it.  I’m still upset about missing it!

I always thought I’d see her again; sadly, I never did. But my memories of Esther Williams, both in life and in film, will always be warm ones.

She lived a full life, and one can only hope, a happy one. At least as happy as she made us, her admiring public.

RIP, Esther. I just hope that there’s a pool in heaven worthy of your spectacular-ness!!!

Every now and then, someone calls me out for writing theatre reviews that are too “soft.”   They accuse me of not telling the whole truth about how bad some shows I review are. And I get it; but I’m usually just trying to say something nice. Plus, I go by the reactions of others in the audience, as well, because unlike some other reviewers, I don’t think that my opinion is the only one that counts!

But I finally saw a show that begs the brutal truth.  Even though I absolutely love the PR people for the Pasadena Playhouse, (which makes it painful for me to give a show there a bad review,) I’m afraid I must be brutally honest on this one. I feel bad ragging on work that so many people have put into it, but it wouldn’t be fair of me to not let potential audience members know what they’re getting into.

[Note: By the way, I'm far from the only one who felt this way on opening night; every single person I spoke with at the theatre, and afterwards, (when we had more time to reflect,) said the very same things I had already written in my notes. (I just can't wait to see if the other critics I talked with will have the courage to write the truth.) The “reviews” in the ladies room alone were more scathing than this one!]

Tim Martin Gleason, Joe West and Chandra Lee Schwartz. Photos by Jim Cox.

So, here goes: In cases like this, I try to at least pick-out one positive to impart to you, but no such luck this time. Sleepless In Seattle, The Musical, is basically dreadful. On every level. It should be re-named Sleepy in Pasadena, or The Never Ending Song. (I’ll explain that one in a minute.) It’s the most banal, vanilla, square presentation I’ve ever seen.

For purists, it appears that the musical version follows the story in the 1993 film. But therein lies the very first problem with this show–IT’S THE STUPIDEST STORY EVER!!! Moviegoers that year must have been hard-up for entertainment to have made this a hit.

It’s basically the story of a delusional stalker, even though the writers seem to think it’s cute for a woman to write to a widower she hears on a radio show across the country, and then fly there to stalk meet him, even though she’s engaged to someone else and has never even communicated with this guy, in any way! Heck, she’s never even seen a picture of him! How can you root for someone like that???

And we’re supposed to be happy when they wind-up together??? Give me a break.

And let’s talk about the equally deranged young son of the widower. He sees a letter from this girl to his father, among supposedly thousands that the man received, and insists she’s the one for his dad? (With no reasons that are shared with us, expect perhaps because she included the kid in the salutation of her missive. Or mentions she likes baseball. Or, because the writers give her what they think is a cute moniker—“Annie.”) And because of his new “Annie obsession,” the obnoxious kid is rude to the attractive, sexy, fun-loving girl his father is seeing, and seems happy with. And we’re supposed to be ecstatic when the kid gets his way? And not mind when he runs away from home and takes a plane cross-country by himself, on this crazy quest to find this woman??? I’d punish him for life. Or maybe send him away to boot camp. What a brat! [Note: I don't believe in ever hitting kids, but this character made me re-think that position a bit!]

Seriously, the story is just the most annoying one ever, and why anyone would choose it to turn into a musical is well beyond me.

Especially twenty years later, when everything about the story, and show, is dated to the Nth degree. If it had been made shortly after the movie came out, I could understand, even though I’d loathe the story just the same.

Back to the narrative a second; when was it ever okay to stalk someone, especially a stranger? And how insane would a girl be if she was in pain about not getting to be with someone she never met or spoke with? The guy didn’t even answer her “cutesy” letter, for goodness sake! In this age of uber-technology, (and the dangers of meeting a stranger through social media,) everything about this scenario seems crazy.

But worse than the concept of the whole show, and the basic inane story, is the music. EVERY SINGLE SONG SOUNDED THE SAME!!! (That’s why I dubbed it The Never Ending Song.) They all sounded like a Will Ferrell character had written the score. Mr. X and I occasionally make-up terrible Broadway-type ditties for fun, and as intentionally awful as ours are, they’re possibly better than the ones in Sleepless In Seattle, which the composers, Ben Toth and Sam Forman, were serious about! (The funny thing is that someone that night commented on how bad the “song” is, and that it was so not catchy that even after hearing it all night, you couldn’t leave the theatre humming it. I had to remind her that it wasn’t really just one song playing over and over! But we had to check the program several times to make sure.)

Granted, the actors all sang really well, but no one was special. Joe West, who played the young son, had a nice voice, but was way too nasal. Every time he sang, I felt like I had to blow my own nose!

Tim Martin Gleason, who played the main guy, Sam, had the basic “lovely Broadway voice,” (that I actually enjoyed,) but he should take a posture lesson from Scott Willis, who plays the transsexual in the Pantages Theatre’s Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, and has the most gorgeous posture ever! It’s hard to view someone who hunches-over as a love interest. (Except maybe, in a weird way, in the Disney version of Hunchback of Notre Dame.)

All the roles are played as pat, musical comedy characters, which is annoying to watch. The only person who made me laugh was Adam Silver, as Sam’s brother-in-law, who did as much as possible with the few lines he had. He comic chops were really on a different level than everyone else’s in the cast.

The set, designed by John Iacovelli, (whose work I’ve lauded several times before, saying of his sets for Peter Pan earlier this year: “a lot of thought and work went into them,” so this was an odd misstep to me,) is the basic everybody-run-up-and-down-the-stairs-to-show-the-stage-is-on-two-levels set-up; I’ve seen better in high school productions.

The so-called production numbers were a waste of choreographer Spencer Liff’s talents, (which have been showcased often on So You Think You Can Dance, so I know what he’s capable of.) When the big dance number is two white dudes attempting the snake, the sprinkler, etc., you know they’re desperate.

But the most egregious error in judgement was made by Kate Bergh, the costume designer. I don’t remember the clothing of the early ’90s being as horrible as these were. Even if they had been, this is a musical comedy, for goodness sake, not a Masterpiece Theatre period piece where every article should be spot-on for the times—cheat a little so we have something fun to look at!  And if all the characters had money to fly across the country for a day, I’m sure they could have afforded to dress at least somewhat better than this! There was not one attractive outfit…on anyone! It was one monstrosity after another. The un-attractiveness of the costumes was downright distracting. Really.

I’ve seriously wracked my brain for the past few days to try to think of anything positive about this production, but just can’t. And neither can anyone I’ve spoken with in my quest to be kind. It’s actually not the worst show I’ve ever seen; it’s just that every single element of it was wrong.

But, if you’re a die-hard fan of the movie, and don’t mind almost three hours of the same song over and over, (they may be different, but none of us could tell if they were,) with bad wardrobe, and nothing special in the way of performances, maybe you’ll like this production. But don’t say I didn’t warn you this time.

Sleepless In Seattle, The Musical running through June 23, 2013
Pasadena Playhouse  39 South El Molino Ave.  Pasadena  626-356-7529  www.PasadenaPlayhouse.org