SEARCHING FOR SUGAR MAN

I missed this documentary when it came out last year, though everyone I knew who saw it urged me to get to it. I read reviews and articles about the story so knew what to expect, I thought, when I finally caught it on cable tonight. A singer-songwriter from the late 1960s and early 1970s who called himself simply Rodriguez, and whose records never sold, went back to the life of basically a day laborer, hard manual work, to support his three daughters, unaware that meanwhile his records have made him more popular, famous, and adored in South Africa—and a few other African countries as well as Australia and New Zealand—than Elvis, Dylan, and The Rolling Stones!

But I still wasn't prepared, obviously, as the story, especially the testimony of his daughters and co-workers, let alone the South African fans who searched for some closure to this revered figure who was thought to have died and discovered him alive and unhonored in his own country, because I shed more than a few tears watching it. Not because of the rediscovery of, and appreciation for, his musical importance, but because of his amazingly humble and deeply profound commitment to live a simple life of service to others.

Saintly figures are not entirely unusual in the music business—Eric Dolphy and Coltrane in his later years are two examples—but rarely do they disappear into "obscurity" (in quotes because that's only from the music public's point of view not the reality of the importance of each of us to the people who know and care about us) to be rediscovered decades later and have an Oscar winning documentary made about them.

ON THE JERSEY SIDE

It's late and I'm tired but from a full evening that included a late dinner with two good friends and catching the music of a band, Sea of Otters, that the two sons of two of my late cousins (one passed a few years ago, the other several decades ago, but both cousins I was close to growing up) front.

Nothing better, or not much, than hanging with good friends swapping stories, eating good food and then catching some live music by people you care for. Sweet night. May they all be.

YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THIS?

THE WORDS SURVIVE

Hectic couple of days, but tonight had a chance to attend most of a memorial for poet and friend Anselm Hollo and got to hear great tributes from his first wife Josie, who I hadn't seen in many decades, and his second and last wife and caretaker to the end, Jane, and Anselm's and my good friend, poet Simon Pettet, as well as other friends like Bill Berkson. [And earlier seeing poet and old friend John Godfrey, etc. a full evening.]

I had to leave to get back to Jersey, exhausted from a few days of challenges, but it was great to see the memorial at The Poetry Project at St. Mark's crowded with old friends of Anselm's or ex-students of his, as well as just plain fans.

A lot of what was great about him was mentioned, but the best thing about a friend who leaves the legacy of his books behind is you get to hear his words transmitted through your own mind's voice anytime you read in one of them. I have book shelves full of the voices of old friends. How lucky.

GENIUSES AT WORK

Thanks to Rob Fife for hipping me to this through a Facebook post. Not only do you get to watch Miles and Trane at their best (not to mention Paul Chambers lead in and exit—wish he'd had a long solo too though) but on a composition and arrangement that tops any soundtrack of my life. [And if the date is correct on the video this was shot at the time of the original recording!]

BLASTS FROM THE PAST

Here are two of my favorite snapshots from my Hollywood years, as I like to call the almost two decades I lived in Santa Monica and worked in movies and on TV. In the first (taken in 1983) my hair looks kind of goofy and in the second (I'd guess taken around 1993) my expression does, but both of these women look as beautiful as I found them to be in person. I felt lucky to know them.

JEAN STAPLETON R.I.P.

I met jean Stapleton once, in the summer of 1972, in a summer stock theater she ran with her husband in Pennsylvania. She had become famous the year before for her role as Edith in ALL IN THE FAMILY, which I had seen a few times so had an idea who she was. Len Randolph, who ran The national Endowment for The Arts had brought me to see her in a play at the theater because he was an old friend of Jean's and wanted us to meet.

She was as delightful as you can imagine and, of course, not much like the character she became famous for. I found her to be very smart, thoughtful, warm and curious. We ended up having an intimate conversation off by ourselves after the party wound down. She invited me to come back and see her anytime that summer, but I didn't get the chance to. For all I know she may have been as generous with her time with everyone she met and invited them to visit too, but it felt personal and heartfelt and I was very grateful for her attention and kindness.

How happy I am that she had such a long and full life, and how lucky I feel to have been a part of it if only for an evening.

[Here's the NY Times obit.]