Diva-licious Lessons...

This week's confessions & lessons come from the subterranean...the basement...the very bowels of New York City.
That's a good thing, and an even better place. Because every aspiring diva should be doing their homework at 54 Below, the City's hotspot for cabaret loving theatre folk in the gloriously designed basement of Studio 54. 
Last night, a Master Class in fabulousness took place, with Professor Ann Hampton Callaway at the lectern. 
Oh, how much I have to learn...how far I have to go...
Admittedly, I am a little biased. When I started Austin Cabaret Theatre over 14 years ago, the first call I made was to Ann. I already knew her through a mutual friend, and got to work with her at The Invisible Theatre in Tucson. Ann opened our very first ACT show, in our very first season, and "put us on the map," as it were.
"I'm finally doing it, Ann--I'm starting my own theatre. And if I'm starting one, I'm starting with the best. You're the best."
"I'll be there. You just tell me when," was her immediate response.
I've known Ann nearly twenty years. We were both 12. But I digress...
She has graced the Austin Cabaret stage many times--both as a solo artist and with her sister, Liz.
But she has graced my life continually. 
Here are just a few of the lessons La Callaway has shown me:

1)  There is no law that says elegance and outrageous humor can't coexist. When I'm with Ann, I literally laugh so hard--and continuously--that my abdominals ache for days after. 
2)  Treat everyone with respect. From a less-than-helpful clerk to the fan who is hanging on a little too long.
3)  If you're going to take on the moniker of "Diva," then for heaven's sake, be one.

...and probably most important of all...have an unparalleled, unbelievable, indisputable TALENT to back it up. That's where some wanna-be divas fall short. 
The term "Diva" gets a bad rap these days. Many people equate it with being difficult, having outrageous demands, or even being a bitch. True, "diva" can be used to describe those behaviors and then some. But my divas--many of which you'll be hearing about in future blogs--are the rare breed that make everyone, especially me, want to be a better (and more fabulous) person.
That's my Ann.
Don't miss her in "Turning Points," her new show, playing through this week at 54 Below. You'll thank me--and make sure you thank her afterward. A true Diva loves that.

Everything I need to know I learned from “The Golden Girls”…

My mother called me the other day, and true to form, she dispensed with standard niceties and started the call with “So how much did that set you back, the work you had done?” in her thick German accent.

I was puzzled, to say the least.

“Um…huh?” was my intelligent reply. 

“How much did that set you back, the work you had done?” she repeated.

“What are you talking about?” said I, totaling up in my head the amount I had just spent customizing the closet in the new apartment…

“Didn’t you get some work done on your face? Did you get a face-lift?”

And then it dawned on me…

A couple weeks ago I took a “selfie” for Facebook. I was with some of the other volunteers at the Saturday morning soup kitchen at St. Michael’s here in Manhattan.  Subscribing to the Gospel of the Golden Girls, I adhere to the teachings of Blanche Devereaux: lean back for pictures (and for making love). Gravity is your face’s friend only in this position. I don’t know if it was the gravitational pull, the lighting, or just my crappy phone camera, but I have to admit, in the photo I do look younger. Thanks, Blanche! Once again, “The Golden Girls” had served me well, beyond the multitude of memorized lines and witty retorts.

I had the pleasure of knowing Rue McClanahan, the actress who gave vivacious life to the character of Blanche.  A couple things always struck me as completely enchanting about her. First, she loved meeting her fans, and hearing about how “The Golden Girls” (and even its feminism predecessor, “Maude”) made a difference in their lives, taught them a lesson, or just simply entertained them. We’ve all heard the stories about (or had first-hand experience with) celebrities who hate being associated with one—albeit their most famous—role. Rue loved Blanche, and loved “The Golden Girls.” She delighted in the recognition, she embraced the fans, she welcomed the worship. She was—and to me, always will be—the true definition of a Star.

Secondly, Rue & Blanche shared the common bond of trying to ignore the aging process simply by being fabulous. Rue always looked fabulous (even when she didn’t feel good), and had a “joie de vivre” that was infectious. She realized the role of Blanche Devereaux (neé Hollingsworth) could have gone to anyone. After all, the producers originally offered it to Bette White. Can you imagine?! Rue knew she had hit the jackpot. She was the gracious winner—always giving back to the fans who adored her. And making sure she looked good while doing it. Let’s be honest. All those Girls had had some work done. Well, maybe not Sophia…

Do I oppose plastic surgery? Absolutely not.

Botox? Bring it on.

A nip, a tuck? Hey, if it makes you feel better about yourself, go for it.

But would I go under the knife? No. 

Not yet, anyway. But I’m not ruling it out. 

As long as gravity and good lighting are working to my advantage, I’m pretty happy.

“The Golden Girls” had it right…

Find the laughter whenever and wherever you can.

Support each other when the tears come along.

Dress nicely and for God’s sake, do your hair—even when just sitting around the house.

Embrace the process: life, love, aging…it’s all gonna happen no matter what.

And—most importantly of all—“family” is where you find it.

Hey, Rue…thank you for being a friend.

If Blanche Devereaux were still alive, she would be about 82 years young. 

And fabulous. 

And bonking the delivery boy.

I want to be her when I grow up.   

            (the picture in question)

          (a recent unretouched picture at work...
   yes, Virginia, there really are wrinkles, dammit...)