So after delays and cancelation and sorrow I get into Chicago for Xmas and my parents books us each in a big suite in a big empty Sheraton near O’Hare… and the wind is howling and this Sheraton bills you like $3 extra per ice cube they so tight and pre-fab and each room has the exact art in it, the exact same generic black and white photos of building in the exact same black frames and the exact fake flowers in slender white vases that are glued to the pre-fab shelf on the pre-fab wall.
But just as I was about to open my wrists,… Marlene Dietrich comes on my itunes…. how did she know I needed her right then and how did she know just what to sing, in French? Suddenly everything is okay. Marlene, goddess of the perpetually bemused and the patron saint of lovers who break hearts and have their hearts broken in turn; she must have had days like mine that stretched into whole USO tours… and it’s all okay…
What was it shaky drunk Dean Martin said when they started playing that Mariachi death march in RIO BRAVO? Something about how a man can get right to the end of his rope and be about to drop, and it all changes with a piece of music. And if he can just get a shower and hear that song again, Stumpy can put the bottle away.
Here’s Marlene singing “Where have all the Flowers Gone.” And if it breaks your heart, how about the “hot voodoo” number from Blonde Venus? This is just my way of spreading the wealth, and thanks to those who uploaded them on youtube, and to all a good night.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsV59qnqZp0] [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=auvWwVY0fbE]
