A Good Day of Rest.

I don't think I left the bed all day long yesterday. I even called Mark Janas and told him, even though the streets had been cleared and transportation around the city was good, that I was going to, regretfully, miss the Salon last night.

Readers who expressed concern don't need to worry. This was all preventative. It was a case of me listening to my body. I have just learned, over the years, when I've pushed myself too hard -- and I had hit the wall. So, as we learned in our literature, I listened and I obeyed. It went against every impulse, of course. I would rather have been at the church and the Salon.

But, enough is enough. Opening this show has taken a big toll. Jim (and I) have been going from promotional event to promotional event, and though I tend to stay backstage during his performances (usually sleeping on the couch or reading a book), it's stressful and exhausting to be always on the go.

Steinbeck was particularly happy that I just cuddled up with him all day. I don't think he ever stopped purring. I love that cat so much.

And it paid off. Today I feel reinvigorated and rested.

Steve is Staying Home Today.

I never miss a "performance," but this morning Jim talked me into staying home. I was supposed to sing for the Sunday morning service at St. Clement's. But, last night, the snow storm hit just as we were leaving the theater after the evening performance.

Jim, however, will go on as Zero today.



When I wrote to Rev. DeChamplain, I simply told her that my immune system, as strong as I feel from day to day, just isn't up to this. I know. I played the AIDS card. I hate doing it. But I have come to respect the fact that I have limitations. I don't like it. Anyone who knows me knows I never turn down a chance to sing.

So, I'm staying warm, and I'm taking it very easy today.

Jim, however, will be at the theater. He will go on!

Friends of Zero Mostel, a Panel Discussion.

If you're a theater lover, I think you will enjoy this stimulating discussion about Zero Mostel held at the Barnes & Noble book store at Lincoln Center in New York. So much theater history here, and frank talk about how Zero could be a very challenging person to work with, and to be around.

Famed lyricist of "Fiddler on the Roof," Sheldon Harnick, actress Frances Sternhagen, Lynn (Mrs. Burton) Lane, Louise Kerz Hirschfeld, Jim Brochu and host, Peter Filichia.

My Bangla Desh Friend.

Recently, a friend of mine from the web introduced me, cyberly, to a young man from Bangla Desh and it brought to mind an incident from my days of being the ship's pianist on the Galileo, where I met Jim.

On the ship, there were distinct classes of workers. At the top of the rung were the authoritarian Greek officers -- most of them despicable pigs, but some of whom were warm and beautiful human beings. (They also lived on the upper cabin floor.)

Down in the bowels of the ship were makeshift cabins where I, and the other entertainers (British) and casino crew (Italian) lived. My cabin consisted of four pieces of sheet metal, a bunkbed, a sink, and an overhead lighting fixture.

My one precious piece of civilization was my typewriter. Yes, kids, this back in the 1980s, when the "Internet" was barely even an idea in the mind of a sci fi writer. I would write journals and lyrics and whatever came into my mind.

So, all of us who worked on the ship were isolated from the outside world.

The ship itself was a microcosm of the world, but with all the 70 nationalities distributed, high to low, in distinct classes. The only two Americans were myself and the (also gay) Greek-American cruise director named George Francis.

(Since I was unaware of how to act in a class system, knowing only the Dolly Partont on the Johnny Carson Show, on meeting the queen. "I'd say howdy and shake'r hand!", it never occurred to me to think of this Bangla Desh young man, very dark skinned with features that reminded me of Indian, but less aquiline, as anything other than just another dude.)

But, he and the other Bangla Desh cabin stewards slept 8 to a room. The room consisted of two sets of bunkbeds with a sink. Barely enough room for the sink (situated door the door, and between the bunks. It looked like slave quarters.

As I got to know him, I learned that he had a sister to whom he sent his money, and to whom he wrote long letters. He told me he was Muslim. He was one of the most gentle persons I ever met, like the folks back home in Buna, Texas.

So, I gave him permission to sit alone in my room and write letters whenever I wasn't around. To just use the room as a getaway.

Well, it was like a revolutionary act. There's even a name for it: egalitarianism. I'm no better than you and you're not better than me. A person's a person. For me, it was also tied up in Americanism, a concept that has gotten a lot of abuse.

Oh, I was so "You're a worker! A worker should be respected." It's grass roots country thinking. Fairness. Equality. Respect. It's so basic, I can't grasp any other way of thinking.

Soon, the Italians, who previously only cursed and abused the cabin steward, were finding themselves with a little rebel on their hands, standing up for himself.

It's funny how different real life can be from what we're told it's supposed to be. Letting someone use your desk to write letters, when you're not using your room, is some kind of revolutionary act?

How great is that.

Tim Burton Rocks.

The look of this movie astonishes.

Tonight: I'm singing at Don't Tell Mama.

Tonight, I'm singing for an event called "Big Night Out Holiday Extravaganza!"

It starts at 8:30, though they suggest arriving at 8pm.

I'll be singing "My Thanksgiving Prayer."

More of Zero's Relatives.

I am preparing videos of the event at Barnes & Noble where friends of Zero talked about him, and about what he was like to live with and work with. It has taken a lot of time to do because, in a free discussion, there are a lot of sidetracks, and I'm trying to group together the subjects so that it's easier to watch.

Meanwhile, more of Zero's friends and family have been coming to see the show. And, much to Jim's delight and amazement, they are not only enjoying the play itself, but they leave with tears streaming down their faces, telling him that it's like being with Zero himself.

Anyway, back to editing this video. But we're thrilled that we're getting this kind of reception from the people who knew him best.

Oh, Shaw.

David Staller, who produces The Shaw Project at the living monument to theatrical history, the storied Player's Club, which has Mark Twain's pool cue on the wall in the downstairs bar and pool room, laughed as he introduced the last two plays in the four-year series because these last two offerings -- two one-acts are hardly worthy of his efforts. But complete the series we must!

If I'm not mistaken, I believe he said George Bernard Shaw wrote 85 plays. Imagine that! I'm not even sure, sometimes, if I have 85 songs. (Of course, I tell myself it's much harder to squeeze a full play into a three minute song than to drag it out over three acts.)

The first one, The Gadfly, he explained, was based on some immensely popular potboiler about spies and Russia and cocktail parties and Bishops, and it, he explained, was written to help the author secure a stage copyright (?). Happily, it was as short as it was unintelligible, and the playing was hilarious. The Broadway actors (Jim Brochu, Mara Davi, Josh Griseti, Simon Jones, Sean Dugan, Victor Slezak, Donna Lynne Champlin) did it with verve and high camp -- Jim doing his faux-Maggie Smith impression as "the countess" who insists that subversive activity is so rife in the town that the only way to do anything in secret is to do it at a cocktail party at the top of one's voice.

This was followed by his last play, an unfinished piece called "Why She Would Not." Since we never would discover "why she would not," much less "what" she would not, David had five different playwrights write their own comic endings. (Playwrights Israel Horovitz, David Cote, Michael Feingold, Jeremy McCarter and Robert Simonson.)

The dining room/performance area was packed to the gills for this final show, and Jim felt very honored to have been asked to participate. We, the audience, cheered and jeered and played along. Then, once most everyone had gone away, we retreated to the bar area and looked around at the caricatures and paintings of all the old actors who have since long left us -- and I sat there wondering what it must have been like, a century ago, to hang out with Mark Twain and Edwin Booth.

When Jim was a young actor in the early 70s, this is where he met Jimmy Cagney, and introduced friends to Joan Crawford. Up in the parlor and the dining room, tall paintings of actors I've never heard, dressed out in their role-playing finest -- usually Shakespearean -- costume and almost seem to speak to each other, like a thespian Harry Potter novel.

The stories these walls could tell...

Meeting with the Vicar.

We huddled over at the well-worn baby grand piano stuffed behind the set of "Zero Hour."

There was overhead lighting, which made a little focused stream of light on her cheek, like tears streaming down her face.

I don't think I ever met with a "vicar" before. Is it capitalized? My image of a vicar comes from that British sitcom with Mrs. Bucket, pronounced, according to her, as "bouquet." He was the hapless one who couldn't get away from her constant need for attention.

And I recall old English movies would sometimes have a vicar.

Her name is Mitties. I accused her of being a plural. She's from Pasadena, California and her brother is an actor. She teaches at the seminary.

St. Clement's has a long and storied history as a theater, which I'm only now beginning to learn. Video blog to come!

I sang a lot of music for her, and she told me stories, and we talked about the various programs run by this little church, most of the programs of which are for the poor. The once a week bags of groceries, the free vet clinic, etc. All being done by this very small congregation.

I played "Connected" for her and she responded by telling me about her late husband, who she obviously dearly loved. Then she quoted some piece of Episcopal theology about all the saints joining together, both from her and from the afterlife.

And that was cool. I just write the songs, which, for me, are little stories. I don't try to analyze them. Or, I maybe I do, but only after they're written.

She is overjoyed that "Zero Hour" is there. She feels it delivers a powerful message about someone who survived a very dark time.

I sang and played songs from "New World Waking" and "The Last Session." I didn't really know what else to do. My songs tell my story so much better than mere words. She asked me to sing on a Sunday morning.

Plus, Jim and I will donate a night -- maybe even do a performance of "The Big Voice: God or Merman?" -- in January as a benefit.

I just have to make sure he doesn't overdo it. Tonight, for instance, he's participating in The Shaw Project. The rehearsals start early in the day. (He's playing a man in one, and a woman in the other.)

Anyway, so many stories to tell. I love this vicar. Her full name is Mitties DeChamplain. How great is that?

But, for now, the big guy needs his coffee. (And you know how he feels about getting his coffee.)

The Gay City News on "Zero Hour"

The Gay City News posts a review/interview about Zero Hour.

In his superbly written “Zero Hour,” Jim Brochu gives a protean performance as that titanic theatrical force Zero Mostel (St. Clement's Theatre, 423 W. 46th St., through Jan. 31). From the first moment he turns to face the audience, there are gasps at the physical resemblance he’s concocted –– that Hirschfeld face, the explosive delivery, the clawing gestures –– with a wealth of laughs and some beautifully earned tears to follow. Among everything else Brochu accomplishes, it is also a sort of gay revenge –– this is a gay actor grabbing the juicy part of a straight man, instead of the usual other way around.

“It’s non-traditional casting,” he told me, “and you may quote me. I read this morning that Meredith Baxter came out, and there she was playing the mom of all time when it was really ‘Bridget loves Bernadette’!

"Zeroing In" from The Jewish Forward.

This is a very insightful review of "Zero Hour," from The Jewish Forward, by Gwen Orel.

The SFGMC did win an OUT Music Award.

Since I didn't hang around at the awards the other night, just to sheer exhaustion, I fear I overlooked the fact that the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus did win an OUT Music Award the other night, even if our one song didn't.

From Kathleen's blog:

SFGMC WINS 2009 OUTMusic Award!

The OUTMusic Awards were held in New York City on December 8, 2009. SFGMC won the award for Outstanding New Choral Song, for the song "We Looked To The Future," which is the opening track on our double CD set, Creating Harmony, featuring highlights from our 30th season (2008). The track was recorded live at Davies Symphony Hall on May 15, 2008, and features soloist Edward "Moose" Maravilla, along with the full chorus and the Community Women's Orchestra. The song, with lyrics taken from Thomas Jefferson's writings, was written by gay composer Steve Milloy, (pictured), who is a renowned composer, arranger, voice teacher and pianist, published by Oxford University Press and Yelton Rhodes Music. Steve allowed me to orchestrate the song for our concert, so it was a real team effort. To hear an excerpt of the song, visit: https://www.sfgmc.org/mediaplayer/index.html

SFGMC also received nominations for our 2009 recordings Tune In, Turn Up, Sing Out and A Few Licks, and for our 2008 DVD, U.S.S. Metaphor.

Congrats to us all!!

Yahoo for Yoo Hoo.

The Women Film Critics Circle has announced their 2009 awards for the best movies this year by and about women, and outstanding achievements by women, who get to be rarely honored historically, in the film world.

LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD: Gertrude Berg [Posthumous]: Yoo-Hoo Mrs.
Goldberg: Aviva Kempner, director

It's about time someone acknowledged this well-loved, but not widely distributed film, Yoo Hoo, Mrs. Goldberg. Not only for reasons outlined in this NY Times article, but because it, like Zero Hour, spends extra time on the tragic story of Phillip Loeb. (This was purely a coincidence, by the way).

Zero Hour, for all its admitted Borscht Belt roots, still digs deep into Zero's pain and anger at the Blacklist. For him, it meant death. As dramatized in "The Front," in one of the greatest screen performances of all time Zero plays a character based on the death of Phillip Loeb.

(Only one reviewer made a note that "The Front" wasn't mentioned in "Zero Hour." But the truth is that Zero's character in The Front is based on Phillip Loeb. By just telling the story of Phillip Loeb, mentioning "The Front" would be redundant.)

(How I wish I had copies of Zero's paintings from this period. I have not seen many of his works. I don't even know where they are. Reader?)

Anyway, congratulations to our friend, Aviva. "Yoo Hoo, Mrs. Goldberg" is a terrific yarn, an emotional thrill ride, about a real life historical character, Gertrude Berg, the most famous unknown woman you ever knew.

Zero Hour in NY 6: The Paintings.

Every night of Zero Hour, Jim paints a new painting. Each one will be offered for auction to charity. This new video tells the story. There is a special appearance by our new sex symbol, Jeramiah Peay (that's pronounced "pay").

Luckily, Jeramy is an actor. So, he's perfectly comfortable taking the spotlight away from me. I'm glad.

Jim Brochu on Joey Reynolds Show

Here is a podcast of Jim on the Joey Reynolds Show on WOR in NY. This was taped last night.

DEC. 16 TLS Celebration is POSTPONED.

Because Amy Coleman has been unexpectedly called to Italy, our Dec. 16th celebration of The Last Session has been postponed. As soon as we have more info, I'll update you.