Showing posts with label Pamala Stanley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pamala Stanley. Show all posts

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Of Queens and Divas

Well, Dj Buddy Beaverhausen has his bad days, too. It's not all sunshine, lollipops and roses, believe you me. Yesterday, in fact, was a disaster that Irwin Allen would have envied. 

I had my ticket for the First Ladies of Disco show at Resorts World Casino in Queens. There was to be a book signing by First Ladies author, James Arena (who I still hope to interview). I would buy a copy of the book and cd (compiled by producer Rick Gianatos) and meet the writer and the performing divas, a favorite foursome: Martha Wash, Linda Clifford, Pamala Stanley, Claudja Barry! Plus, it was to be hosted by Deney Terrio (Dance Fever). I was stoked! This was going to be a great evening to remember.



I'd picked out a fresh, new shirt at Century 21 Bay Ridge for the occasion, packed my bag (notepad, cell phone, business cards) and I was off! I know Queens like I know Zanzibar. But I was aware that a subway ride from Bay Ridge, Brooklyn to Jamaica (NY, that is; not the island of) would take me about two hours. (Actually, I could fly to the island of Jamaica in that time!) This was Dj Buddy Beaverhausen's Big Adventure!

First, I had to transfer from the R train at Union Square in Manhattan to the L, then connect to the A. I initially got on the L headed in the wrong direction. Somewhere along the way, I lost my reading glasses from my shirt pocket. I'd have to take notes half-blind.

The A train was skipping stops due to construction. I'm not certain that I even saw a stop for Aqueduct/JFK but decided, for some reason, that it had to be the end of the line.

Nobody I spoke with on the street ever heard of a shuttle bus to the casino. I hailed a car service, asking to go to "the casino." The driver said $20 and I said it was a deal. At this point, I would be roughly 1/2 hour late for the 8 pm show. Not what I hoped for but at least I'd catch most of the show and meet the author and divas afterwards, even getting their autographs. I ended up at Empire Casino in Yonkers! This was so wrong.

Explaining I meant the Resorts casino, I learned it would be a 40-minute ride if traffic permitted and the ride would cost me a total of up over $80 from Yonkers. I cried uncle. The driver returned me to the A train. Down and defeated, I took the subway to Manhattan, then a $40 cab ride to Bay Ridge.

Talk about going nowhere fast!

But, chin up! Although gravely disappointed by my fruitless misadventure, I am ordering First Ladies of Disco (book and cd) on-line where it is an Amazon best-seller. And I'll catch these perennial, ageless divas another place, another time, hopefully.

Somehow, the whole debacle reminded me of the following song (sung by Cyndi, written by Ellie Greenwich):










Sunday, July 7, 2013

Meltdown NYC

It's hotter than that infamous underworld inferno today! And I do not mean the subway platform.

Yesterday, New York City hit 100 degrees and, today, a high of 94. Need I mention, I've been keeping myself inside with the a/c and fans on? Rain's coming, but only cooling things off minimally. Summer is here and a heat wave is on. Gee, better launder my short pants at long last!

Today, my shower was a cool one. I usually prefer to shower  with the water as hot as I can physically tolerate, but not today. I gave myself a break, so needing to chill a little by any means possible.

It's comfortable inside the apartment, however, even though it's still, with no outdoor breezes to ventilate the rooms. No cooking tonight, as I plan to order Chinese food. Went no further out of doors than the deli on the ground floor of my building... for cold beer.

Growing up in a pre-commonly air-conditioned America, our escape from summer dog days then meant fans on throughout the house, sitting on the stoop (the front porch), sometimes with lemon ices and socializing with neighbors. And, of course, going to the movies, where theaters were "Comfortably Air Conditioned," as proclaimed the marquee banners to entice those sweltering on city streets.

So, yeah, it's hot -- and don't you forget it, as sang Pamala Stanley in her 1979 disco smash. Keep your cool, y'all.