I Just Got Back

I just got back from Reese’s summer drama camp recital. He was, of course, a smash as Oliver!, even brought a proud tear to my eye during the “Wha-a-a-a-aaaaat is looooove?” number. Tonight I’m off to hear Adam Klein (the former Miss Rena MacDonald) read from his most excellent book Tiny Ladies, previously reviewed in this blog somewhere. Adam is also in a band called “Roman Evening,” a multi-talented word stylist who’s unfortunately off to Bangladesh or somewhere with the Peace Corps, so we will commence with the bon voyaging tonight. Last night I had dinner with Michael, his boyfriend Rob, and Bob in Oakland to celebrate Michael’s new 18th century canape–no, not the appetizer, the sofa–and chairs. Michael’s getting quite arch in his gay affect, which I love and encourage. I had just read in the most recent NEST an article about Cy Twombly’s palazzo in Rome, with pictures taken by Horst in the mid-60’s for a Vogue article, and Michael’s place reminded me of it. “Oh, Cy…” he squealed with a roll of the head as I mentioned the article to him, and produced some hot juicy nuggets of gossip about his experiences in Rome. I wonder if I’ll ever attain the status of being the subject of trashy gossip tossed about a dinner party 30 something years after the Diana Vreeland/Horst exposé of my palazzo in Guerneville?