HOME SWEET HOME

These are the childhood homes of celebrities: 

 

Bette Davis

 Dean Martin, torn down

 Jean Harlow

James Dean

 Judy Garland

 Patsy Cline

 Paul Newman

 Rock Hudson

 Orson Welles

The "Hurrells"

In an homage to George Hurrell, Frederick Piccarello took these photos of me in about 1976:

October 2, 2011

Homeland began in 2011. I became instantly addicted. And after every season finale, I looked forward to the next season. The year passed and Homeland returned. It is hard for me to say good-bye to shows that I have watched for years.

And tonight, the finale to the season aired and now the show is over. I hate endings. They are so final. And they serve to make very small the previous years and all that went before.

I cried when last night's episode ended. I was sad because everything that happened in previous seasons "fell away into the arms of time." Every year I looked forward to the new season and now Homeland has no "tomorrow."

I believe Carrie planned this all along. She planned how to become a spy for the USA while living in Russia. She played Yevgeny and now she is Saul's new asset!

And I am crying again...

I will review this episode soon.

NYC: A Ghost Town

WESTWORLD and THE BICAMERAL MIND

“Have you ever questioned the nature of your reality?”

"These violent delights have violent ends."

Is Maeve's search for her daughter a parallel to the longing we sense in each lifetime for those we left behind in former lives?

coming soon!

NYC in the Still

Nono and Child

Here is a Nono Lebasque and my nephew's portrait of me from 1995:

The Yetta Brand

in Videos

and in writing:

THE BIG IDEA

I volunteered for a while at The Paley Center. It was a rewarding experience. It was there that I had my idea to write "The Liquid," which was sent by ICM to the writers of Seinfeld. They never used it:

I even sent the idea to Larry David when he was starring on Broadway in "Fish in the Dark." He never replied to me. 

So I did it myself, in 6 parts: 

The Pink Houses

114 Waverly Place

319-321 Grand Street

360 West 11th Street

218 E. 5th Street

THE DEAD

And perhaps soon, perhaps not... one day I will be close to that distant tree and one cold day the snow will be gently falling in that lonely graveyard where I will lay buried just as all the others who once lived and who now rest there. And I will be forever part of their grey world. 

Where Was I?

I was carried up these steps of my grandmother's house after I was born and we lived there for almost a year.

We moved shortly thereafter, and it was through this door that my mother and I left every day to go shopping.

In about 1950, there was an air raid siren and my mother and I had to stand against this wall until the siren stopped.

I attended kindergarten in this school and one day when nobody was there at the end of the school day to pick me up, at the age of 5... I walked home alone. I was a Boss Ass Bitch even back then:

I was carried out of this door at the age of 5 to have my tonsils removed:

I fell asleep behind this window until the age of 6 and every night I could hear the cars pass on the busy street that led to a highway.

I grew up in a bedroom behind this window and in that room I imagined all of the possibilities:

This is where I attended grade school and here is where I waited for my mother to bring me my lunch:

The day it was announced that JFK was assassinated, I was in Mr. Lenchner's math class sitting behind this window at Valley Stream North High School:

Every day I attended classes in college for four years, I waited here for the light to change so I could make that left turn to go home.

The night I heard Sharon Tate was killed I was sitting in this Bickford's in that chair on 14th Street and 7th Avenue:

I was standing on this corner when I first heard President Nixon resigned:

This was the school in which I most enjoyed working:

And for over 50 years, these were variations of my views:

It was sometimes fun and sometimes monotonous... it is what it was. That's all.  It all passes into the arms of time.