.

On May 8 and 9, 2012 I had one of the greatest experiences of my career performing my Super Ball Bounce Back Review at King King in Hollywood. It not only was only the second and third performances I’d done since jumping off the stage in the middle of my own show in 1974, but was an attempted – and I’m happy to say TOTALLY TRIUMPHANT – comeback after one of the worst experiences of my career seven months before when 90% of the technology my first attempted comeback show was dependent on failed. But I knew that I had to get back up and practice what I preach: From some of the worst situations come the greatest miracles and I had proven to myself time and time again that, if nothing else, I was someone who had the courage to make lemonade out of big, fat lemons.

So I’m happy to report that I have risen from the ashes and had two of the greatest nights of my life bouncing back as a performer in a major way. I can’t thank everyone who came enough. And I can’t thank everyone who worked with me on the show enough.

So I leave you with a whole lotta photos from both nights, videos to come and a big, loud Badeya-say-do-you-remember there never has to be a cloudy day as long as you have sunshine inside. ENOY THE SHOW!!

Rehearsing is, indeed, a novel concept for me. I like to plan, plan, plan but then just let things happen as they may and field the few things that may go awry. This is part of my daredevil style being a completely unschooled artist. But when I tried that in my last show, supposedly my big  comeback after a 37 year bout with stage fright, the tech guy screwed up so severely that I realized that could never happen again. So I spent the last week in the rehearsal studio with a lot of amazing folks getting ready to hit the floor boards again.

These were all taken last week at rehearsals for my Allee Willis’ Super Ball Bounce Back Review live show in mere moments, tomorrow and Wednesday nights, the 8th and 9th, at King King in Hollywood. These are in no particular order, just a few of my favorites.

Before I co-wrote The Color Purple musical I had little interest in theatre. I had no desire to see people break out into song, oftentimes seemingly for no reason, and sing in that shrill kind of Broadway singing way, and leave not understanding or enjoying what I saw anyway. But I jumped at the chance to collaborate on TCP because it was such an incredible piece of literature, the most soulful on the planet.

After depriving myself of the genre for a lifetime, once I got the gig I spent a year in every regional theater, dinner theater, high school auditorium, every and any place I could bone up on musicals. Writing The Color Purple, though easily one of the hardest and most intense things I’ve ever undertaken, was also most pleasurable. And in the mere act of writing it I really understood that the theatre was not the stagnant-leftover-from-the-old-century medium I thought it was but, rather, a daredevil medium where you never know what’s going to happen as one actor coughs and it can turn the whole show.

Another thing I learned, as evidenced by the show as it’s currently being performed  at The Celebration Theatre in LA, is that this is a medium in which work can change drastically depending on who stages it. And I saw just exactly why I put up with five years of tears, laughter, compromise, bending so far over backwards I thought my body would split, epiphanies, road blocks and more, I.E. a microcosm of life stuffed into five years of  round-the-clock days, rewrites, and did I mention rewrites?

When the show opened in New York in 2005, we had a cast of 31 actors in the second largest theater on Broadway. On tour, the cast shrunk by a few actors but the stages were/are just as big, the auditoriums even bigger, and the staging was just a slightly skimmed down version from what it was on Broadway. But at the Celebration Theatre I got to see 19 actors stuffed into a 99 seat house, something I couldn’t have imagined working, but it was MINDBLOWING! Not only did everyone do their thing and then some, the intimacy of seeing the show staged for a tiny room with audiences on three sides of the stage worked so well for the piece I can’t tell you!

If you’ve never seen the musical you might think that this is a heavy, depressing couple of hours but ha ha, it’s a comedy, and an incredibly inspiring and uplifting adventure of someone who goes from less than nothing to the other end of the rainbow. If you live in LA I encourage you to see it. It’s here until the end of May.

Here are some photos from opening night at The Celebration Theatre a few weeks ago:

With my TCP collaborator, Stephen Bray:

With LaToya London, Shug Avery in the current production and Nettie in the second National Tour:

With Stephen and Michael A. Shepperd, a fiiiiine Mister indeed!

With Niketa Calame, an hysterical Squeak.

With Kelly Jenrette, a fantastic Nettie:

With Sixx Leah-Patrice Carter, Church soloist, and Lorie Moore, one of the hysterical Church Ladies:

With Harpo a.k.a. Terrance Spencer, and ensemble players Jonathan JT Thompkins and Akula Lyman.

With TCP director Michael Matthews, mo Church Ladies, and Kat Kramer.

With Na’Kia Bell Smith and Janet Washington, excellent young Nettie and Celie.

The opening was star-studded.  Here I am with my ol’ pal, Dana Delany.

I love Wendy Malick!

So excited that Robert Forster was there:

And Sharon Lawrence too!:

With Dana Delany and her Body Of Proof co-star, Nicholas Bishop

Director Michael Matthews, Artistic Director of the Celebration Theatre, JohnMichael Beck and the cast:

Go see The Color Purple and make Allee very happy!

Anyone who doesn’t know my friend Luenell, run to Wikipedia right now. If you ever even have caught a glimpse of her, maybe as the hooker in Borat…,

…or opening for Kat Williams…,

… or maybe in my backyard at one of my voluminous parties…,

…you know Luenell’s hysterical and don’t take no shit. I know her to also be a kind and seriously loyal friend, the type that just rings your doorbell and is standing there with her half eaten cupcake-in-a-cup offering you the other half. I would’ve shot a photo of it when she arrived here a few weeks ago wearing her pjs but I sucked it down too fast. Which is too bad because it matched my shirt:

Last night Luenell threw herself a huge party. Maverick’s Flat, the club on Crenshaw Blvd. where it was held, is as legendary as the star herself, ground zero in the 1960’s for iconic musicians, comedians and socialites to party together in a Playboy Club-type atmosphere. As an example of the excellent decor, here’s a door that still remains:

The funky and psychedelic design of the club even inspired the album art for one of my favorite LPs, the Temptations’ “Psychedelic Shack.”

Here’s an example of who used to perform at Maverick’s Flat:

But tonight it was all Luenell/all the time…:

… as we gathered “yet again to celebrate her 25th birthday”:

I arrived the same time as Luenell. Shitty photo of me but you can see the girth of the Paparazzi.

Lots of great friends in the house.  Here I am with Abraham Mc Donald, who I met at Jenifer Lewis‘ one Christmas and who won the Oprah show’s National Singing Competition right after that.:

Then MAxi B, from The Mary Jane Girls…:

…and Norwood Young…:

…and William Papa Lee Handford Jr…:

I hope you can see the ultra expensive bling I wore. Here’s a slightly better shot of it on the red carpet:

Apparently my lips had a wonderful time giving an interview to WorldVideo.tv. Look at them leaping  off my face!!

It got soooo crowded that we retreated to the roof, where we shared some smokin’ fried chicken and general frivolity. Here are me, Snappy P., Constance Tillotson and Michael Ruvo:

And then my camera battery died.  I NEVER travel with just one, but seeing as I lost two cameras and four batteries this week alone, I was traveling solo with only one new cheap camera and the battery it was born with. Oh well….. Happy birthday, Luenell, and to 150 more magnificent 25th’s!!

New Year’s Eve, 2011. I’m coming down Sunset Plaza, a really windy road with million dollar homes right above Sunset Blvd. in LA. I’m in my Green Beetle, which is a lean and fast machine.

Sunset Plaza’s a pain in the ass to drive under any circumstance but nightmarish should you end up behind a slowwww driver, which is what fate dealt me this New Years when I was in a big hurry to get to my destination, my friends Nancye Ferguson and Jim Burn’s pad, an ultra modern built-for-Brian-DePalma-in-the-70’s house that teeters on stilts overlooking the city. Here’s the view from the balcony:

There are very few parking spaces to accommodate a small fraction of the 50 people on their way up there. If you don’t get one of those spaces you have to turn around in a teeny tiny cul-de-sac and drive a quarter mile out the little windy road with hardly any shoulder and a drop-down of hundreds of feet. And then you’re back out on the main winding road where there are about two parking spaces for every fifty people. No way am I limping back up that hill on foot! So I start leaning on the horn behind this little black car driving at funeral speed. To my credit, I only honked when there was enough room for the stupid driver to pull over so I could pass. Finally, after five minutes the car hugs the curb and I whiz past, gunning it extra hard to show my annoyance even further.

I get to the house and thank God there’s a space left. I pull in, put some lipstick on and send a few emails on my iPad before I go in. A couple of cars pass me and I don’t see them coming back down the hill, which means they must’ve found parking spots too. I finally get out of the car and trudge the last 20 feet up to the house. Standing there is my good friend, Beverly D’Angelo, with a guy I don’t know. Beverly and I go way back and I love her. She’s also an excellent party guest, a criteria I have incredibly high standards for, and has been coming to mine for years.

Just as I’m getting in hugging range I hear Snappy P yell, “Green Beetle, that must have been Allee!”. “You fucking asshole, you almost drove us off the road!!,” screams Beverly as I approach. Oh shit, I rarely misbehave behind the wheel anymore and now I’ve gone and terrorized a friend. But then it gets worse, “Meet Sid Krofft,” she says, referring to the mystery man next her, adding that she brought him to the party specifically to meet me. Now I’ve been waiting to meet this guy since the late 60’s when his puppets, marionettes and insane live action shows started ruling TV and now I’ve almost killed him. “I wanted to get out of the car and tell you what an asshole you were” he says. Thank God the Beetle was turbo-charged and he didn’t have a chance. I ate a lot of crow for the next few minutes, but it was immediately apparent that Beverly was completely right. This guy was a kindred spirit and we hit it off like we had known each other for decades.


Though Beverly had told Sid he HAD to come to Willis Wonderland, I went to his place first, now a couple weeks ago. I took hundreds of photos but I can’t show any of them because Sid’s a really private guy. But it’s as handcrafted as my place is times 6 trillion-on-steroids.

In actuality, I didn’t really get full tilt into the Kroffts back in the day when their shows were on the air because by then I was way way way deep into records and the radio. As a fan and later as a songwriter, when my radio habit lurched into twelfth gear and I lived and breathed music every millisecond of every day, I was still aware of that Sid and Marty Krofft name and that it stood for something crazy. But it really wasn’t until so many friends of mine insisted I go to an auction of their props at the Beverly Hills Hotel in 1998 that I realized the extent of that craziness as well as the magnitude of its reach. As a kitsch lover, how could I have not been familiar with every single detail of the Kroffts’ career, the guys on the throne at the top of the kitsch mountain??

YouTube, of course, makes for an excellent crash course. So I’ve seen more of the Krofft brothers’ magic in the last month than I have in my lifetime. And my respect and discovery of the depth of influence their work had on me subliminally has been a revelation. H.R. Pufnstuf is probably their most classic:

I don’t like to wake up early for social visits but at 82, Sid Krofft is in REMARKABLE shape, jogging 9 miles a day + a couple hours in the gym, so he’s raring to go when the sun comes up. 10:30 bright and early a couple of Tuesdays ago he and Beverly were at my doorstep.

I even got it together to cut up healthy food for him.

This is a BIG step for me as this is what’s more likely to be on that table on a regular basis:

Sid was as fascinated by Willis Wonderland as I was of his hand-built abode. As my yard is part of my living room, we hit that first.

Although it was raining when I took the following shot, you need to see those GORGEOUS 1950’s fiberglas fish lounges sans people:

As we strolled around outside we were joined by Donny Molls, a great artist and Sid’s next door neighbor:

We stopped and chatted in every room:

My downstairs, where that shot was taken, is particularly packed with memorabilia, some of which is Krofft Brothers stuff I’m happy to say I had the good sense to collect even if I wasn’t sure exactly what it was when I bought it.

If you’ve never seen Electra Woman and Dyna Girl, double up your sedation and watch now! EASILY one of the greatest title sequences in the annals of kitschdom:

Thank god I had a few View Master disks of Electra Woman and Dyna Girl in my collection too:

Sid and Michael Jackson were great friends so I pointed out some of my primo MJ cheese:

You really need to see what I’m pointing at. Yeah, I got the doll and the puzzle like a zillion other people…

…but who else do you know who has the drink cooler?! This is easily my favorite piece of MJ memorabilia I own:

When we got to my dining room…

… Sid posed in front of Mr. Wah Wah, a stunning portrait painted by my alter-ego, Bubbles the artist.:

We spent a lot of time in my recording studio too.

Although Sid has a computer he’s not obsessed with them as I am of my 11 networked Macs. So what we really wanted to do was show him how much of his stuff is online.

And there’s gaggles of it – H.R. Pufnstuf, Land Of The Lost, The Bugaloos, Lidsville, The Donny and Marie Show, not to mention Electra Woman and Dyna Girl for starters. And no exploration of Sid and Marty Kroffts would be complete without the Brady Bunch Variety Hour:

The Brady Bunch is certainly coming up A LOT lately!

One of THE most classic and cheesiest shows EVER on TV was called Pink Lady and Jeff. 1981. I remember being so intrigued by that nutty title that I tried to catch the show whenever I could. Imagine the complete and total ecstasy-breakdown I had when I saw the Pink ladies immortalizing my song,”Boogie Wonderland”:

Watching this again with the creator of that show who was totally in on the cheese joke of it all was even more thrilling. As we were poking around doing searches on YouTube I discovered that not only did Pink Lady do that quintessential performance of the song, they also recorded it. I’m still gasping for breath:

What a day I spent with the gang. Here’s one last parting shot for the photo LP before everyone left:

I sho love me some Sid Krofft!!


 

And now, the  Oscar for Best Motion Picture…. goes to… The Artist!

As I hunkered  down to watch the Oscars yesterday, the first time I had ever watched it alone due to pressing deadlines on my end, I remembered the last time I sat down to watch a global event unfold on TV. It was when Carmageddon was predicted when the 405 freeway had to close for a day in LA last summer. I thought about it a few days before and decided to go through my vast collection of digital images of bad album covers and match them to the demolition/construction events as they occurred in real time. Last night, as soon as I saw Mila Jovovich be the first star to walk down the red carpet…

…I realized I could take the same approach to the Oscars as Carmageddon as the stars continued to arrive:

I pride myself on being a daredevil artist, ready to field any creative challenge thrown down in seconds. So as the Oscars were announced, I gave myself between the time the presenter walked on stage til the moment the winner was announced to scan through close to 5000 images and pick the appropriate stinker LP cover for each category. Here then are The Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch Oscar winners, in the order I posted them but starting with the after party and  final award, and ending with the stars arriving earlier in the day:

Have fun at the after parties!:

Best Motion Picture:

Best Actress:

Best Actor:

Best Director:

Best Animated Film:

Best Original Screenplay:

Best Original Song:

Best Original Score:

The inevitable speech by the head of the Academy:

Best Supporting Actor:

Best Special Effects:

Best Sound Mixing:

Best Supporting Actress:

Best Foreign Film:

Best Makeup:

Best Costume Design:

Sasha Baron Cohen wasn’t the only one who arrived carrying something:

The actors are looking especially fabulous:

Fashions continue to astound:

The stars are in exquisite fashions:

Congratulations to all the Allee Willis Museum Of Kitsch Oscar winners!

 

The entertainment portion of the holidays started out on Christmas Eve day at Michael McDonald‘s and me using my iphone for photos. This is a no-no if you’re expecting recognizable lifeforms when you flip the setting so you can see what you’re shooting. The shots come out like those portraits made out of of macaroni and rice. Not the best look for the holidays but here I am with the excessively pixelated Michael and Prudence Fenton:

Jai Rodriguez was also there (and also grainy):

Then we shot across town for a Christmas Eve barbeque at Luenell‘s, pictured here with me, Prudence and Constance Tillotson. At that point my Canon Elf took over so all’s clear from here on:

The next day, Christmas, it was off to Liz Heller and John Manulis’, who I forgot to take a photo with.  Their place is THE food fest spot of the holidays. Here I am after sampling four different varieties of mac ‘n cheese with Prudence and Ed Begley Jr.:

Lynne Scott was also there,…

…as was Nancy Moonves:

Bob Garrett and Storm Lee weren’t there but were at Julie McDonald‘s, who I also forgot to shoot a photo with, the next day for her Boxing Day party. Our outfits worked so great for Christmas we dragged them into the next day with the boys:

For most of the two following days I locked myself inside and worked on my new live show. I emerged on the 29th to have dinner at Street with Tony Selznick, Storm and Prudence:

Another day of intense writing the next day and then this meeting with Richard DortonRita Maye Bland, and Storm, all of whom are working on the live show.

And then it was New Years Eve. Every year for the last eight years I’ve gone to Nancye Ferguson and Jim Burn’s party, a reliably fantastic gathering of folks in one of the greatest modern houses in the city. High up on stilts with one of those mindblowing arial views of LA like you’re looking at it out of an airplane. Here I am with Nancye, Paula Prentiss and Richard Benjamin, comedy legends I died with joy meeting for the first time:

I was as excited about my Jeremy Scott Adidas’ as I was about meeting Paula and Dick:

The shoes were way too big for me but I will never sacrifice style for practicality. So I stuffed the toes with fuzzy balls and let the wings do the talking.

I also had never met comedy superstar artist/producer Sid Krofft before. Here we are with Beverly D’Angelo and Prudence:

Diva Zappa and her tutu provided lots of New Year’s cheer. At one point she wore it as a hat.

Ian Buchanan is a fellow regular partier at Nancye and Jim’s,…

…as is Antonio Hendricks,…:

…and Richard and Candy Clark:

And then it was 2012. I started out the new year where you can usually find me if I’m not at home, Susan Feniger‘s Street:

…where Storm and I had a hangover fix of champagne and donuts:

And then it was off to Gail Zappa‘s, whose birthday it is on New Years Day, and who has had a party ever since I insisted she do so five years ago after never having a birthday party before:

This is another one of those parties that now happens like clockwork in a fantastically crazy house with great friends, food and a bagpipe player:

Michael DesBarres and Storm were there,…:

as was Jeff Stein,…:

…Nancye and Michael Patrick King,…:

Jared Lee Gosselin, who I intend to do a lot of musical damage with this year,…:

Dweezil Zappa, one of Bubbles the artist‘s earliest patrons,…:

Pamela DesBarres and Jimmy Intveld,…:

Loree Rodkin,…:

Peter Asher,…:

Sally Kellerman and Beverly,…:

…Ian and Buck Henry,…:

…Gail, who was of course at her own party, and Eric Idle.:

Eric’s feet were looking mighty sharp:

As were mine, Charles Phoenix‘s and a token one of Prudence’s:

Here’s our top portions. Notice how much New Year’s food is stuck to my teeth:

In addition to the spotted teeth, I should call attention to the fact that I know that most of my poses and camera angles are identical. At festivities such as these, the last thing you wanna do is to continually ask someone to take a photo for you. So I’ve just learned to stretch my arm as long as possible and hit the button myself. I’m happy to do this as long as I have good friends to aim at. Which is what I hope 2012 is filled with. And clean teeth, of course.

Bleary eyed from chasing a friend’s cat through the hills above the Hollywood Bowl all night last night – finally captured I’m happy to say! – I had to get up bone-breakingly early this morning to pick up a keyboard in Hollywood. My eyes were still practically glued shut but there’s so much kitsch along the roadways in this city, I can always deal with a situation as long as I remember to bring my camera. In addition to the above mural painted underneath the 101 on Argyle, here are but a few of the gems that crossed my car and eyeballs as I made my tired trek this morning.

There’s nothing better to me than when someone takes a plain building and slaps some cement art up on it.

Well, maybe this is a little better… taking a plain box of a house and attempting to make it look like the Parthenon with the MGM lions greeting you at the door:

I wonder if that person knows that plants can actually be planted in the ground? The only thing missing is a blue tree…

…and maybe this hedge as an entrance:

Thank God this bus wasn’t parked in front or passersby wouldn’t be able to see any of the architectural or fauna beauty:

Despite so many insanely wonderful vintage structures falling victim to the wrecking ball, Hollywood still has some incredible period architecture like this church hugging the entrance to the 101 On Hollywood Blvd.:

You can’t really tell how gorgeous this is from a distance but in addition to those incredible fins and peculiar arrangement of windows, the entire building is made up of 1 inch lavender mosaic tiles. Unfortunately, that wall was slapped up a few years ago depriving drivers of the building’s full beauty. Luckily, the full finned magnificence of the Peterson Automotive Museum on Wilshire and Fairfax is not hidden by a stupid wall.

I know that this is a hideous photo but I  took a short cut through a muddy construction site and barely had time to fumble for my camera as I passed this window:

Perhaps a close-up will reveal more of its beauty:

I swung by one of my favorite papusa places hoping to grab a little breakfast before I sped home to throw myself back in bed but it was closed. The mural still woke me up.

I hope everyone reading this has as jam-packed full and colorful a Sunday as this overly-enthusiastic balloon/cotton candy/inflatable toy man walking around Echo Park Lake this morning. Open your eyes. Beauty is all around you!

Mere days after my first and only album, Childstar, was released on Epic Records in 1974, I walked on stage in front of 10,000 people to open in Boston for folksinger David Bromberg.

The only other time I had been on stage before was when I played a little fur tree in a school play when I was 8. Now here I was singing soul music, the first 10 songs I ever wrote, plus a Mary Wells medley and Brenton Woods’s “Oogum Boogum”. My band, the singers of whom would go on to become Chic, were dressed as sequined vegetables and I was in a satin suit that I’d autographed from head to toe. This is a really crappy photo of part of the costumes on mannequins but it’s all I’ve got;

Me and The Angle Babies aren’t in costume here but you can get a pretty good idea that between us and our costumes we weren’t what the folksinging crowd came to see.

I didn’t have a very good time on stage. I never could remember my lyrics and I always spent more time designing the sets and costumes than I did rehearsing or getting comfortable being on stage. After five performances on the East Coast we were booked into a lunchroom at Ohio State, the only way the college could also get Joni Mitchell to play in the main auditorium because we had the same agent. Our only audience were three people at a bridge table eating hot dogs and a psychology class being conducted in the back of the room, with the professor telling us to lower our volume after every song. I walked offstage after six songs and made the decision to just be a songwriter, where at least if I was being tortured it was in the comfort of my own room.

Through the years I’ve gotten much more comfortable performing – in my own unique way of doing so which doesn’t include singing live – mostly because I’m a big party thrower and walk around on mic the whole time.

Almost every conversation I have comes through the speakers and I’m literally directing and producing the party as I go. Throw in the thrift shop auctions and stupid party games that I lead the guests through and I’ve gotten very relaxed holding that cold metal thing in my hands.

But I still never have gotten it together to sing anywhere other than in the studio.

So the fact that in mere hours I will be up on the stage for the first time in almost four decades and I’m not sitting here throwing up is a MASSIVE ACHIEVEMENT! Me and five other well oiled songwriters will be singing our greatest hits and talking about how they were written. It’s just with a keyboard – Chris Price, who I’ve been writing and recording a song with and shooting a video all on iPhones, is accompanying me –  but I’m singing and remembering lyrics and lines nonetheless.

And if I can get through the evening not thinking about soul singers dressed as vegetables, psychology professors and hot dogs I will have made a big breakthrough.

I’ll be performing “September“, “Boogie Wonderland”, “Neutron Dance”, and “I’ll Be There for You (theme from Friends)“. At least radio has regaled me with these songs thousands of times over the years so I’m hoping that for once I can remember my own lyrics and be happy I’m up on stage.

Wish me luck!

Nice, big, fat story in the Times on me today + 12 photos. Thank you, Bob Morris, for seeking me out (no press agent involved here!) and writing such a heartfelt, spirited, and happily long piece. My house thanks you too (at least the part of it that made the photo)!