ME AND RUSS I don’t really have a problem with Russell Crowe, per se. But I used to like him better than I do now. He was pretty handsome in Gladiator, but I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for gladiators ever since Steve Reeves. I liked to imagine that maybe Russell would like to come over to my house and play gladiator, but he never answered my letters and phone calls, and our love died. Then last week, the command came from above; I was ordered to attend Russell Crowe’s screening of his new movie A Beautiful Mind for Governor Rick Perry. I flew into a tizzy of preparations … the Governor and Russell Crowe? For that, I’d need a very special outfit, indeed. I considered everything from a traditional Maori ensemble in honor of Russ’ New Zealand heritage, to one of those peek-a-boo togas by Versace … I even considered having myself made over to resemble Meg Ryan, in hopes that I would catch his eye, but there was the unfortunate possibility that I’d look so much like her that my appearance might cause a riot. Then I’d never get invited to another Russell Crowe event or the Governor’s Mansion. When the e-mail came that there was an unfortunate screw-up and I would not be attending, I was hardly devastated. I’ve got party invitations coming out of my ears right now. But still, a little tête-à-tête with Russell would have made great fodder for this column. I imagined the scenario that might have occurred. We’d be sitting at the Four Seasons, smoking up a storm — reports say he’ll smoke anywhere he wants to — and we’d chit-chat about world events, as well as our personal lives. He’d glower a lot, and occasionally sneer, as he is wont to do, but then we’d dispense with the pleasantries and get down to the business of an interview. We discovered we both shared something unusual in common: We’ve both used the fictitious last name of ‘le Roq‘ — he, as the singer for Russ le Roq & the Romantics, and I, as Rod LeRoq, Internet sex god. My interest piqued, I’d ask him, “Russ, in 1982 you put together a band to record a single “I Just Wanna Be Like Marlon Brando.– Though the song was not a hit, was the title a self-fulfilling prophecy? Is that why you’re so sullen and grouchy all the time?” One can only imagine his reply to that. Then, I’d give him the old one-two by asking, “I recently read that you were referred to as an ‘antipodean love hound,’ and you’ve been accused of sleeping your way to the top. Do you know what ‘antipodean’ means, and whom did you sleep with to win the Oscar for Gladiator?” No doubt his answer would topple the Hollywood hierarchy. And finally, clasping my reporter’s notebook to my chest, I’d lean forward in my best Barbara Walters let’s-make-’em-cry approach, and say, “Now, Russ, let’s talk about Meg, shall we? Inside reports say that you were having lunch with your family on Christmas Day when Meg called and broke up with you. What were you eating?” That answer might have sounded like his last name, but we may never know for sure … since, of course, I didn’t get to see him.
A MEAN-SPRITED CRANK That is the sobriquet given to SXSW fixture Jim Fouratt in last Monday’s New York Post, after his very politically incorrect remarks regarding Melissa Sklarz‘s nomination for one of the vice-presidential positions of the Gay & Lesbian Independent Democrats became public. GLID has two vice-president slots — one male, one female — and the transgendered Sklarz, who began life as a male, was nominated for the female position. Fouratt, a GLID member, objected to the nomination, saying that Sklarz was not really female. Said Sklarz, “He has no right to define my identity. If my government, my job, and my family accept me as a female, he has no right not to.” Uh, well, Melissa, actually he does have the right to say whatever he wants; America’s all about making choices, isn’t it, Melissa?
FAN MAIL After the spate of ugly letters and e-mails I’ve received recently, it was a pleasure to hear something nice for a change. A heartening letter from Phillip Plyler (aka Pip Pop) regarding the benefit at the Continental Club for the late, great “Shoeshine– Charley Miller says, “Stephen, I am writing to thank you for mentioning The Annual Hairdressers’ Ball in your columns … [“After a Fashion” November 23, 2001, austinchronicle. com/issues/dispatch/2001-11-23/cols_fashion.html and November 30, 2001, austinchronicle. com/issues/dispatch/2001-11-30/cols_fashion.html] As you know, many readers pick up The Austin Chronicle on a Thursday to read ‘what’s happening.’ Many readers forget what they read about in the prior issue. I’m certain that this helped us to get a larger crowd for the event. … We managed to give the club $$$ for the cause. I am personally dismayed that the local music writers who keep mentioning the ‘decline’ of the ‘scene’ did not mention the event in their columns in the 11/29 issue. Seems to me that a fundraiser such as this would warrant more than one mention. The point of the event was to honour a man who was a part of the scene before many of us were old enough to get into a club. Who knows, maybe people attending the event out of kindness may have seen a band that they liked (which they may have never seen before), and become more supportive of said scene? This holds true for the Austin American-Statesman writers, as well. The event was not mentioned in the American-Statesman the day of the show. Again, many thanks to you.”
Also, this from reader Lindsey B: “I would just like to thank you for your comments concerning rude customers! As a full-time student, I work a part-time job as a cashier at a national retail chain. I have also done my share of time in the food-service industry. Thank you for finally putting my thoughts into print! I always love it when a person with absolutely no education, class, or personal hygiene, talks to me like I’m stupid, simply because I happen to be sacking their groceries. On those occasions, I remind myself over and over again that this too shall pass, and that one day, I will have my degree and be able to get away from jackass customers. Your article made my day!”
This article appears in December 14 • 2001.