What I remember most vividly about Cyd Charisse are two things not mentioned in any of her obituaries. In the 1949 movie Tension, made before she became a star, she plays Richard Basehart's neighbor, a lovely and supportive girl who sticks by him through some very serious noirish complications. He's suspected of a murder that he didn't commit, but which he thought of committing...the real mystery of the movie is why he even considers the murder (of his vulgar, cheating ex-wife) once he's met Cyd and she's obviously sweet on him! But before he comes to his senses, he's got to do stupid things and suffer a little, otherwise there would have been no movie. A scene at the beach at night spotlights Cyd most becomingly. This is available on DVD.

The second thing that Miss Charisse stamped on my soul was a scene in the 1958 gangster/noir melodrama Party Girl, where she plays a showgirl who slaps a man in the face (whom I believe was John Ireland) with her shoe! A stunning moment of female aggression and dominance that was as memorable as any of her dance numbers in other films. I don't think this is available on DVD yet, though.

I just thought I'd mention these things to round out the picture of her accomplishments given out in the media...

My condolences to her husband, singer Tony Martin. Must be very tough to suddenly lose a great gal like that after sixty years of marriage. Only a few months ago, they were written up in all the New York papers when Tony--in his nineties--did a nightclub show.

Anyway, here's a link to a site that sells posters of Cyd, just so you can see her legs! You rarely see stems like these anymore. Women are too busy in the gyms making their gams hard and muscular.

AllPosters.com

In the month since my last post, I went through construction in two areas of my apartment, which was mandated by the building management because of an upcoming renovation project. So my place is a little better, but I still have a lot of cleaning and packing and storing to do in the other part of the space, which is still full of books and magazines and videos. A lot of dust to clean up. As I said in my previous entry, I don't really want to write too much about it, just get it done...

But I will say that cleaning a cluttered apartment is not unlike the experience I had when I wrote my (as-yet-unsold) novel last summer. Stress, frustration, then exaltation when progress is clearly made.

When the place is done and straightened up, it will definitely be better. It's better already, because now I have reclaimed my kitchen as a cooking area. I will not use it as a storage space for books and magazines and videos ever again. I hope to put a small table into it, so I can eat there too. So far I've been just making soups and coffee and sandwiches, but I'll eventually move onto more advanced repasts.

Haven't been to the stripclubs in three and a half weeks. I was tempted to go last Friday, until I noticed I had a 40% off coupon from Borders that would expire that night. So instead I picked up the box set of The Streets of San Francisco, a show I never watched in the 70s but which sounds pretty good now with its lineup of actors. It cost me $26, or the price of approximately one and a third lapdances. Karl Malden and Michael Douglas made a good team of detectives. In the episode I watched last night, Janice Rule played a call girl stalked by a deranged religious fanatic, portrayed by James Olsen. She was quite an attractive actress and did a good job with the role.

Have to get back to trying to sell my novel. I have to redo the synopsis for submission to agents since I rewrote the ending. It's funny, the book was such a preoccupation for so long, but now it seems a part of my past, as my mind and body get swallowed up in this colossal effort to unclutter my living space. But that's how the mind works.