Thursday, August 29, 2013

the nearby diva

As people started trickling out of the bar to the Diana Ross concert across the street last night, I started having some regrets, or maybe it was the cocktails kicking in.  I said to Jerry that maybe we should have gone to see her after all.  After all, I hadn't seen her since 1967 -- Steel Pier, Atlantic City -- when she was still with the Supremes.  Back then, I was the ultimate Supremes fan, you know, and to some degree I still am.

But I admit that I'm still holding a grudge against Diana, for the way she treated the other Supremes, Flo and Mary, and, by extension, us the fans (A book I highly recommend:  "Dreamgirl:  My Life As A Supreme" by Mary Wilson).  So I went back to the cocktail and only had fleeting nostalgic interludes.
Yesterday, by the way, was a big anniversary:  50 years since the civil rights March on Washington, where MLK gave his "I have a dream" speech, 8/28/63.
Coincidence:  in our catch-up marathon of "Mad Men" (we are in Season 3), last night's episode took place during the week of that 1963 historic march.
I kissed Mary Wilson once, or did I already tell you that?  I have never kissed Diana Ross.  It's her loss.

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