A Hundred Words or Less: The Sequel

Last year at this time, the Simi Valley Acorn ran a competition inviting readers to submit original stories of 100 words or less ... or fewer. I decided to write one for the contest and later posted it on this website:

davidbernhart.com/post/a-hundred-words-or-less-or-fewer

The newspaper didn't bring back the competition this year, but in anticipation that it might, I produced another story. Should the Acorn contest return at a future date, I'll have something ready to go:

65 IN A 25

Tom chuckled. "I hadn't worn one of these in a long time, but it felt all right."

Brooklyn flashed her dimples and said, "I thought it felt better than all right." She jumped off the bed and walked to the window. The first sliver of sun was visible above the horizon.

She continued. "I know there's, like, an utmost difference in our ages, but it could work. Everybody tells me I'm really mature. Maybe we'll even get married."

Tom quickly responded, "Whoa, slow down there, Mario Andretti."

Brooklyn turned around.

"Who?"

Full Nelson

Decades after my parents' passings, I continue to uncover memorabilia they left behind. Here's a curiosity from 1985, a yellowed copy of a flyer publicizing an in-person appearance by Nelson Riddle:

Yes, there used to be stores that sold sheet music.

The albums Nelson arranged and conducted for Linda Ronstadt, starting with 1983's "What's New," had brought his name back into currency among those who revered his landmark collaborations with Sinatra, Nat Cole, Peggy Lee and many others, while also introducing him to a new generation of music lovers. He began receiving offers from cities across the country to fly in for concert performances. Of course, that meant he needed the assistance of a travel agency.

It was exciting for me to help with Nelson's travel plans. Instead of working at his home in Bel Air, he rented a suite in an office building on Larchmont, furnished it with a grand piano, and I would often deliver airline tickets to him there or meet him at various studios around town where he happened to be recording. He and my father had already known each other 30 years at the time Nelson became a client and they grew a little closer in this new chapter of their relationship. In April of 1985, Nelson, his wife Naomi, my parents and I converged for lunch at the Hollywood Brown Derby, just a few doors down Vine Street from Kelly Travel Service's office in the Taft Building, only to discover upon walking in that the legendary restaurant was closing at the end of that afternoon with no advance notice.

July of that year saw the publication of Nelson's book, "Arranged by Nelson Riddle," part primer for aspiring orchestrators, part memoir. Nelson's appearance at the sheet music store was intended to promote the book. Sadly, Nelson didn't live to fulfill that commitment; he died on October 6, nine days before the event.

As for the story of the flyer -- which looks like the creation of someone who had experience designing ransom demands, doesn't it? -- I imagine my mother got hold of a copy, or a copy of a copy, and in turn took it to one of our neighborhood print shops to have further copies run off for friends who might like to attend.

Yes, there used to be places called print shops ...

Maestro

Long before Bradley Cooper announced he would direct and star in a biographical film about Leonard Bernstein, I felt that the life of one of the great musical figures of the 20th century deserved to be dramatized on the screen.

Of course, most people think of him as a conductor first. He served as music director of one of our country's principal orchestras and regularly guest-conducted the leading symphonic ensembles of the globe. He was also a top-drawer pianist, frequently directing orchestras from the keyboard. Additionally, he was a composer of both popular songs and "serious" music, one who struggled to reconcile his place in two musical worlds: too popular to be taken seriously by some in the classical establishment, too serious to be a pop star.

As if all that weren't triumph enough, he became an unlikely television personality in middle age, guiding viewers through the classical repertoire and, once again, bringing together the realms of popular and serious music.

While the depiction of professional accomplishments is important, a successful biopic conveys drama, necessitating that the subject also led a drama-filled personal life. This man's private life certainly meets that prerequisite. His lovers were many and varied, his relationships with his children often complicated. In short, there's no doubt his story contains all the ingredients needed for a sensational motion picture.

And if you don't agree that André Previn deserves a movie about his life, you know how to reach me.