a division of the Chersonian Institute

Category: Giddy Gossip (Page 8 of 9)

Diva Down

Chers_bed There were reports last week that Cher was having stomach issues and being treated by a European specialist. This is, needless to say, very scary news for Cher fans to hear and this fan surely sends healthy thoughts and meditations to Cher and her family and friends. It’s hard to gauge the seriousness from the vauge reports so we’ll have to stay tuned. Hopefully, Cher is at home convalescing on an overstuffed beige bed such as pictured above.

I’ll write more soon but am in the middle of a messy move at the moment. Our Venice landlords bought us out last week and we found a new place to live this week but not without three 8-hour days of searching, a 20-minute breakup with my boyfriend over the weekend, and my own stomach problems yesterday due to eating some old salsa in the refrigerator. Hey, I was just trying to clean it out. And if you think that will turn me off of salsa going forward, you have another thing coming.

But enough about me. This blog is really about Cher. 😉 Get well soon!

   

Trophy Hunters Catch Picture

Tmz TMZ Staff posted their vague Los Angeles Cher sighting news: “Hallelujah! Cher Has Risen!” on October 8 2007 at 11:20AM.

She was somewhere in the vast metropolitan area of LA supposedly waiting for her Bentley convertible to be brought around.

TMZ is snarky. I like snark.

“Most of Cher is 61 years old. Last year’s auction of some of her chatchkas netted $3.5 million, with a huge chunk going to charity. Some reports have Cher’s net worth at half a billion. Believe!”

My comments and questions:

  1. 1. Is a Cher sighting all that rare these days? It’s good that TMZ is excited enough about this one to hurl out a Hallelujah.
    2. How much will fans pay for those sunglasses in 2056?
    3. How large of a chunk did go to charity exactly and what charity what that again? Do they have a website?
    4. Half a billion? No shit?
    5. Sell a Bentley; buy a Bentley.

   

Stephanie Miller Defends Cher Against Ear Worm Claim

Stepmiller I was listening to my favorite morning show, Stephanie Miller, today while i was applying my face goop. They’ve been discussing dangerous 70s toys. That morphed into a discussion on annoying 70s songs or "ear worms" as they call it. Listeners call in with their most hated 70s song. Once dastardly meanie-poo feller called in today to say "anything by Cher."

It was only a matter of time.

Chris on the show started playing "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves" and "Half Breed" while Stephanie did her best Cher impersonation. Needless to say I was irked to be hearing all this. But happily Stephanie groaned when the caller suggested any Cher song was an ear worm, saying "She was called a lotta names. She was really bullied. No wonder she turned out so fabulous."

Awww…I feel so warm and fuzzy inside now.

   

It’s Gonna Take a Lotta Links…

…to get us through the night.

This was a link-tastic week.

        

Who’s Talking About Cher

Steve

So you know I reviewed Teri Garr’s book and basically said it was sketchy (as in merely a sketch of a tale). Then she goes and says something really juicy (and true) on Today THV regarding The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour joke-writing machine. Asked about the new musical version of Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein, Garr compares the jokes between Brooks’ movie and the jokes from her day job.

Garr says you can find "musical qualities to the phone book if you have the right writers." Garr says even though the humor in Young Frankenstein is juvenile, it seemed "like Shakespeare" compared to the jokes she was having to say on "The Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour" at the same time in 1971. She says that was "cheap joke city."

Garr is so "hit and run" with her candor. Why not just spill it all out. It would be like therapy.

Why was the writing so bad? The Carol Burnett Show skits were so much better. My non-Cher-fan friends will watch the TV show DVDs and come right out and say what Cher-fan friends can’t bring themselves to say: the jokes suck rotten. They’re not even bad in a fun way.

The production values – bling! The costumes – bling! The songs – bling, bling! So why couldn’t a practical army of writers come up with better jokes? The only jokes worse than S&C Show jokes are Cher Show jokes.

And I’d like to ask Steve Martin why? Steve Martin was a writer on early S&C shows. Then he goes on to one of the smartest, most successful stand-up comedy careers ever. He could have written a brilliant show all by himself. Was he hoarding all the good stuff? Or were the egos in the writers’ room that humorless that they passed up his brilliant material? I just don’t get it. The mark is so far between that variety show and his soon-to-break material.

It’s unfortunate he wasn’t a bigger influence on the comedy quality because that show is mostly sketch-comedy, sprinkled with music. The weakness of the comedy will keep the show a kitsch/memory favorite (mostly due to the musical sequences) instead of a true classic like Carol Burnett.

Who knew? The Belefast Telegraph reports that "Dead Ringer For Love" is a song you can really work out to.

   

Star of Sonny

This week’s news is that Cher helped her sister purchase a modest home in Malibu – which is not to say they paid a modest amount for it. I figure maybe too many girl fights ensued in Cher master bathroom and so Georgeanne and her husband had to move out. Or maybe Georgette ate the last dollop of Haagen Dazs one too many times. Cher World has the news post.

This is unfortunate news. Not because it’s bad news but because it’s not important news. Now Cher-sister and Cher brother-in-law will have less privacy and more Cher-peripheral gawking from drive-bys.

Peripherals, especially peripherals who have chosen to lead non-celebrity lives (okay, she married Michael Madsen first and was on General Hospital as a young lass…but that was years ago) should be afforded more space than peripherals who are seeking to crack the Entertainment Industrial Complex, as Maureen Orth might put it.

Interestingly, Cher and her only sibling seem to have a close, collaborative relationship. But I’m just not as fascinated by this aspect of Cher’s life, at least not as much as other celebrity-obsessed folk are. I guess if you were Cher’s biographer, these details would be crucial and I have no doubt (believe me) that family members play a role in your creative and business decisions to a far greater degree than we would all expect or like to admit.

So I’m not saying Cher’s relationships aren’t pertinent factors, they just aren’t particular interests of mine in a way that whatever arguments between Sonny Bono and Snuff Garret during the All I Ever Need is You recording session had on the final outcome of the album are.

I’ve talked about this before on Ape Culture, right after I attended the first Cher Con and realized there was something different about me.  Here I was so excited to have found other Cher fans out there…finally. And yet, we didn’t quite click. I blame myself.

I categorize the celebrity obsessed into three camps: 1) those in love, clearly the worst; 2) those in illusionary friendship – obsessed with meeting the celebrity and knowing what is going on in their lives at any given moment – not healthy either due to its delusive nature; and 3) those who are obsessed with all the stuff and analyzing the stuff in ridiculously exhaustive ways. The later would be me. I would argue that this is the healthiest, aside from its conspicuous consumption aspect. But then I’m partial to my own delusions of rationality.

I’m much less interested in who Cher goes to dinner with, where she gets her tacos from or what brand of mud mask she puts on her face. I’m not going to run out and buy Dr. Pepper or the books she reads or the perfume she wears. It’s just too much intrusion on my time and identity; forget about hers. And besides, with the blog , the website, the 25 boxes of memorabilia in my parents’ basement 300 miles away in Amish Country, haven’t I put my myself and my family through enough?

Some peripherals, however, are of note: children involved in entertainment or spokesperson sorts of professions and lovers who have done creative projects with Cher…which pretty much includes them all: Sonny Bono, David Geffen, Gregg Allman, Gene Simmons, Les Dudek, and Rob Camilletti (a name I will never learn to spell) in a cameo sort of way. If they didn’t help produce any Cher product (Val Kilmer) or if no Cher product refers to them, my interest wanes.

Geffen helped transition Cher from one half of a duo to solo artist extraordinaire. Gregg Allman’s role was far less direct. He inadvertently exacerbated Cher’s tabloid presence (as if her divorce didn’t get enough ink). He also contributed to an aborted concert tour, appearances on her TV shows (as a guest or via his progeny), and an unlikely but well-made studio album. His presence and drug issues also disrupted Cher’s output and schedule during the late 70s.

But of all personal relationships, Sonny is the most crucial. He was the creative developer of Cher version 1 and 2.0. You could make another matrix of Cher’s distinct work phases based on him: 1) Cher with Sonny (early 1960s to 1973); 2) Cher rebels against Sonny (1974 to 1998); and 3) Cher post-Sonny (1998 to present – there’s not so much to rebel against in this phase and she seems almost more professionally at peace).

Sonny Bono’s Walk of Fame star in Palm Springs was rededicated in early April.  It was first placed in May of 1996, a few years before his death. A Cher fan posted the AP story recently in a Yahoo! group. We Cher freaks missed it as we were too busy fruitlessly discussing whether or not Cher will work Vegas next year and how soon we are going to be able to pre-order the new Barbie dolls.

Reading this news reminded me that In 8 months Sonny will have been dead 10 years. I can’t believe it. Apparently Cher sent an audio message to Palm Springs for the re-dedication ceremony that none of the AP reports saw fit to quote.

I wasn’t able to find a great picture of his star online…but I did pictures of his $100,000 statue which looms nearby at 155 S. Palm Canyon Drive. Here it a Monet-like Impressionistic study of the statue at different times of day.

Is he wearing a jumper?

Fullpants



Version in the night-time

Nighttime_2



Version in close-up color

Statuecolor



Shot from below

Frombelow

 

Longer Sonny re-dedication story in The Desert Sun paper.

If This is What Respect Looks Like. . .

Cher2_2 So I’m eating my re-heated pasta from my celebratory dinner at The Buggy Whip last weekend (celebrating because the Wisconsin Review accepted one of my older poems) and enduring last night’s live broadcast of The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on VH-1 Classics, a broadcast reminding us that neither Cher or Sonny & Cher have yet been inducted or are likely to be inducted anytime this solar life-span into that prestigious canonical orb of proper pop music despite the well-intentioned petitions of Cher Convention fans.

Which is fine. Because it’s stupid.

That Blondie drama last year was off-putting. The Van Halen debacle this year was ridiculous. Of all the worthy bands, these ass-clowns get in and then don’t even show up or send a note. Well, recently booted-to-the-curb Michael Anthony did show up as did 80s lead-singer Sammy Hagar. But not Eddie or that other-Van-Halen-brother or the glutton-for-attention David Lee Roth? Where was he? Did Eddie threaten to not let him come back into to the Van-fold if he dared show up alongside Sammy? Is this tomfoolery all over the latest Van-melodrama regarding long-time player Michael Anthony who got replaced on the tour by Eddie’s 15-year old son Wolfgang by Valerie Bertinelli?

No, this isn’t like the time Elijah played on the Love Hurts Cher tour. Micahael Anthony is a beloved founding member of Van Halen. This is despotic nepotism!

Sammy and Michael tried to recreate the magic with “Why Can’t This Be Love” and the help of every-musician’s friend Paul Shaffer among others; but without that iconic sound of Eddie, it sucked. I love Sammy but his performance was lackluster. They looked embarrassed. The whole show was cringe-making with its long pauses between performances which were filled with heckling  from the crowd and film clips of vintage Hall of Fame induction performances from years past with the likes of B.B. King and Eric Clapton, in other words past inductees with a bit of class and reverence for something beyond their navels.

So now Eddie’s in rehab and the civil war between him and all his long roster of former band-mates continues. Yawn. Can I see the next vintage Hall of Fame performance now? Ah, that’s it: Prince playing “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” with Tom Petty. It’s as if the Hall of Fame is saying “Now here is a real guitar genius eccentric…who puts out!” Prince kills us with a performance full of flair and dexterity and then maddeningly prances off the stage like an arrogant elf. I love him! I hate him!

Ronnie Spector of The Ronettes was also inducted. Remember Cher wrote the introduction to Spector’s autobiography and these gals used to pal around when both were working under the banner of Phil Spector. Cher also sang back-up on the iconic Wall-of-Sound recording “Be My Baby”. The autobiography of the same title is a must read for Ronnie’s take on the early punk/folk version of Cher and to understand what life was like behind that Wall…speaking of irrational eccentrics.

At the end of the show, all the inductees convened to sing a ditty, including Grandmaster Flash, Ronnie herself, two-fifths of Van Halen, and Patti Smith looking homeless as usual – which is fine because she’s an auteur and all…but why are her teeth so icky?? She would make a good ghost-of-rock-tours-past in one of Eddie Van Halen’s hallucinogenic drug episodes.

I’m frustrated with the rock canon right now and so I’m going to go buy the newly issued Cher dance mix collection, which includes remixes of “Dark Lady” and “Bang Bang [Return to the Five & Dime Mix]” which is sure to ensure Cher will continue to be snubbed from any future R&R HOF inductions to come. Darn it all.

   

Rich as Roosevelt

Ad1I realize I’ve been a real Negative Nellie lately. Which is silly because things have been pretty good. In fact, I’m traveling this week to a new city—something I love to do. I’m also making progress on  recently neglected financial and artistic fronts. So why focus on the negative in I Found Some Blog. Let’s focus on the positive: Cher is rich!

“You’re as rich as Roosevelt!” That’s what Olympia Dukakis shouts out to Vincent Gardinia in Moonstruck when he doesn’t want to pay for Cher’s wedding to Danny Aiello. I love that line for all its grumpy ‘tude; but does it make any sense? I mean, are we talking about Teddy or Frank here? I’m pretty sure Franklin was not that rich. At least that’s what they said when we went on that tour of his house off the Hudson River in New York. Maybe Teddy was the richie. If I was more of a history scholar, I’d be able to answer that among other pertinent questions. But, as it is, I’m Cher Scholar and can only answer questions like “Is Cher Italian?” or “Is Cher rich?” No and, as reports of late would indicate, yes. However, it should be noted that we Cher fans have always thought Cher was rich. It’s just that we were wrong sometimes.

Well, what do we know? We scan Cher atriums in four or five Architectural Digest issues throughout the decades and it’s easy to see how we could get the wrong idea. But as it happens, during the late 60s and mid 80s, to cite two examples, Cher was actually, as they say, paying the chauffeur with milk money and the cat was pissed.* Another thing to note: this information about Cher’s richieoicity came from an un-sourced posting on Cher groups claiming Cher was now worth about $620 million dollars. But I say we shouldn’t believe it until Cher makes the Forbes list of richest celebrities. Allegedly, the bulk of her wealth is a result of her real estate holdings, art collections, and the new Caesars Palace contract worth $60 million. But should we believe such Vegas-ness will even occur before we get the hot little tickets in our hands and have forced three of our non-Cher-fan friends to promise they’ll go with us? Maybe there’s money coming in from a new fragrance product I heard a whiff about last week. Speaking of rumors, I still don’t know what this mysterious Cher Charitable Foundation is. Like everything else, until I see a poster, a website, or a billboard…talk to the hand.

And I mean “talk to the hand” in a good, positive way. 🙂

*M.E. Ladd

Enquiring Minds

74_movie_mirror I’ve been thinking a lot about this latest tabloid story mentioned in my last post. First of all, we should remember: tabloids murdered Princess Diana by causing her to flee too fast through a tunnel. I can’t condone buying them. They’re sinister and they make celebrities cry…for no good reason than to feed our insatiable appetite for gossip.

That said, I tried to buy my own copy of Cher in the aforementioned rag last week. But I never found it. Or rather, I bought the wrong issue, mistaking plain-face Lindsay Lohan for Cher on the cover. I KNOW. It’s very embarrassing! Not only did I spend way too much $$ for a magazine full of lies on recycled paper, but my Cherdar was way off. I was mortified about it, believe me. I ended up stashing the "wrong copy" in the downstairs bathroom so I could brush up on the antics of Pamela Anderson Lee Rock at my leisure.

But I was even thwarted in that when my significant roomie read the thing faster than I could and threw it out before I got two articles in. Was I miffed!

So the whole episode was an exercise in disappointment. How could I mistake Linday for Cher? How on earth could that happen? Am I getting senile? Have I lost my touch? In high school, I used to be able to pick out "Cher" from a scan of teen mag text in seconds. I was a sort of Cher-savant. I had mad celebrity obsession skillz. So what happened?

The Internet, that’s what. The Internet Cher groups have made me lazy. I now wait for the next generation of Cher teen fans to do all the hunting and scanning. I sit back in my office and wait for the news posts to rain in through my email and tell me when the next Cher appearance on TV or in print is. It’s been comfortable life, yes. But I’ve missed a few things.

It’s made me soft.

But it was the Internet that came through in the end. The rag scans eventually appeared online. It was interesting to finally see the photos some bozo captured of Cher walking on a beach. How creepy if you fully visualize the scene: some dude following Cher around in the sand, walking backwards with his camera.

Cher is so  far from fat in the “Now” photo” and possibly too thin in the “Then” photo. You can just as easily say Cher is 26 pounds away from being too Nicole Ritchie in the “Then” photo. And where do they get the 26 pounds from anyway? It completely robs the story of any credibility. Maybe the family cat, lurking near Cher’s knee at the bathroom scale was the crucial leak to a reporter, a man lurking with a can of Fancy Feast by dumpsters at the Cher compound gate. Or does this rag have some special photo-scanning weight software that measures muscle to body fat? If so, the software is probably extremely buggy and can’t take into consideration shadow-camera pounds and sea-wind interference in pantaloons.

The whole country is crazy. We’re either all too fat or too thin. Our collective conscious is contradictory, self-abusive and meaningless. Who’s gained 20 pounds today? Who’s lost 20 pounds tomorrow?

I’m working on a new poetry project that involves a lot of research on Zen Buddhism. In the Buddha’s teachings of The Noble Eightfold Path, he discourages gossiping which is opposed to Right Speech. Think of your karma. Indulging in salacious gossip is never done is good spirit. These rags reek of bad karma.

But we’re so human. We fold like cards. I rationalized my mis-purchase in order to "weigh in" on the photo debate – was it real or was it Photoshoped; but I really wanted to satiate my curiosity about the possibility of there ever really being a fat Cher. Aren’t we Cher fans are lonely for Cher news, too. She hasn’t been in a legitimate magazine for a while, let alone done an interview.

As Chris Rock said many years ago: I’m not saying it’s right; but I understand. Let’s all move on from this unsavory incident. If you must engage in this sort of activity: play the Cher Scholar Tabloid game instead.

Speaking of gossip: is that Mimi Machu up there with Sonny? Scholarship, gossip…it’s a fine line.

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