In the wake of "Ebb Tide," Carl's 1953 oceanic collaboration with composer Robert Maxwell, hundreds of orchestras and singers recorded it. Millions purchased those recordings. Critics fawned over it. Teens made out to it. Couples chose it as their wedding song.
Yes, Rivers often zinged herself too, but isn't that also a form of woman-bashing? Indeed, it seems Rivers' shrewdness was in recognizing a patriarchal appetite for misogynistic humor -- and exploiting it.
Whenever she was asked who her greatest influence was, Joan Rivers responded with characteristic quickness, "Lenny Bruce." This shouldn't come as a surprise to those who know her comedy. Bruce spent his entire career overstepping the limits of what could be said on stage.
I hope that Joan and my grandmother, also a stunning blond, are reconnecting on the other side and keeping God laughing. I have no doubt that Joan has just the perfect joke for St. Peter when she arrives at the pearly gates.
I adored Joan Rivers. Adored her as though I knew her. She will be remembered in most of the obituaries as a pioneering woman entertainer. There was no comedienne like her before -- Lucille Ball and charming slapstick was the prototype.
Over two nights, our conversation covered many things -- her devotion to her family, her legendary work ethic, her delight in making people laugh -- and then it took on what turned out to be a prescient dimension.
A few minutes before the plane touched down and I was introduced to the complete sensory overload that is India, I realized that I was prepared to meet Jews and I was prepared to meet Indians, but I still wasn't prepared to meet Jewish Indians.
I caught up with Dee as Fashion Week officially unravels in all of its glory to learn more about the web series, the mix of comedy and fashion, and the good news that the show may be destined for cable.
It tasted like 19 years old and tie-dye dresses and my best friend's dorm room plastered with Led Zepplin posters and reeking of weed. It tasted like Youth itself, and I was ruined. Suddenly, every other ice cream I had ever tasted was a disappointment in retrospect.
Set in the crushing complacency of suburbia, It Won't Always Be This Great is narrated by an unnamed Long Island podiatrist who commits an accidental act of vandalism that shakes him, albeit temporarily, out of his sleepwalking existence.