ETHER

  Today, I am going to love my life

.---Carol Burnett's sister, Chrissie Burnett, said this while on her deathbed from cancer.
 
 

 

 
I am currently reading an amazing book called, Madame: The Biography of Polly Adler, Icon of the Jazz Age, written by Debby Applegate. The book cover states, “Simply put, everybody went to Polly’s. Polly Adler (1900-1962) was a diminutive dynamo whose Manhattan brothels were more than oases of illicit sex, where men paid top dollar for the company of her girls; they were also swinging salons where the culturati and high society partied with the elite of showbiz, politics, and organized crime—and had a hell of a time doing it. Polly’s pals—luminaries like Joe DeMaggio, Frank Sinatra, Al Capone, Duke Ellington, Dorothy Parker, Desi Arnaz, and by her own account, Franklin D. Roosevelt—made the Jazz Age roar.”
 

Polly was friends with Evelyn Nesbit, a well-known beauty, Ziegfeld Follies chorus girl, and actress who helped introduce Polly into society.  Evelyn was married to millionaire railroad icon, Harry Kendall Thaw, who murdered famous architect Stanford White in a jealous rage over his past relationship with Evelyn. Books and movies recount the “trial of the century,” which eventually convicted Thaw and sent him to prison.

I am writing about this because of a few lines in Applegate’s book: “Nesbit had lately been hosting ether parties…in the misbegotten effort to wean herself from a nasty cocaine and morphine habit.”
This quote reminded me that I’d had a dream with “ether” in it.  
 

DREAM: Ether. (May 2, 1989. Four months before my memory returned.)

I am with a [movie star] who is going to show me things. We are walking around in a house, and he has his arm around me. The house is big, and there are so many people it is hard to find a place to be alone. He takes me upstairs and we go into a bedrrom. He is thinking about how he is going to teach me.  

He says, “First let me get some ether.” 

I say, “What do you mean, ether?”

He goes down the hall into the next room. I can’t see him, but imagine what he is doing. He is filling up a bottle with ether so he can give it to me.  We are going to do it together as foreplay. While he is in the next room, a girl comes and starts talking to him. I can see that he wants to get rid of her. I wonder where he sleeps in the house and whether he has ever slept with her. She sings and they laugh and have a good time.
He comes back and we get into bed together. He has cream and he is working on my toes. Someone else is watching us. Some people arrive. I’m embarrassed because he is doing my toes in front of them. A woman says, “Oh my God, it’s [a famous movie star.]

“Sing,” in this dream is a metaphor for an orgasm.

This dream stimulated my interest in ether. I learned that in 1928 anti-drug legislation was extended to include ether. Penalties could include imprisonment for five years with severe financial consequences. Legislation included the smuggling and trade of ether and possession of it because it could be used in the manufacture of illegal narcotics. Ether has been found to be addictive.  
When I was growing up, ether was used in dentistry by a licensed doctor. Today, due to its highly flammable properties, other methods have been found.
 
 

 BORIS

I was recently watching the Netflix series, “Halston,” starring Ewan McGregor as the great American fashion designer. One of the last artistic endeavors of Halston’s career was designing costumes for the pioneer of modern dance, Martha Graham, for her epic production of Persephone. The costumes were stunningly beautiful and provided Halston with some of the greatest reviews of his career.

The series reminded me that my life passed by the spirit of Martha Graham in the 1960’s through a friendship with Boris Poliakine who I met at a Carnegie Hall concert. We hit it off and I invited him for coffee at my Greenwich Village apartment. On entering he went straight to my piano and began playing. He was an amazing piano player and entertained me for the rest of the evening with his ability to play anything by sight. We had a wonderful time. 

I had never met anyone like Boris, and I was mesmerized. He was exotic and exciting. A Russian Jew born in Egypt, he spoke several languages. He had traveled a lot and was an artist, having studied painting in Paris. He was all the things I admired in others and wanted for myself. 

His story was tragic. He learned the piano at the age of ten, and from twelve to sixteen played in an Egyptian nightclub. “It was a horrible, filthy place. I have many unpleasant memories of it and the people I met there,” he said. Boris shuddered as he recounted his experiences, declining to go into details. He was young, Jewish, and in a hideous dive. The way he told his story made me think he might have been raped.

.
“When Israel fought to establish its own independent state, my family became refugees. For three years we had no home. It was a terrible time. My life became  kind of hopeless, and I did not play the piano for eight years. Then one day I was finally able to return to the piano. I think I could have been a great pianist, but during difficult periods I found I could not play. Something happens to my brain, a kind of blackness. Then there are times when I can play through the entire night. I now live in Israel, but am in New York playing the piano for Martha Graham’s dance rehearsals.”

We talked into the night. My heart ached for him, but I didn’t know what to say or how to help him. He invited me to dinner at his apartment the following Sunday. It turned out he was house-sitting for Martha Graham while she was on tour in Japan. I met Boris at one of Graham’s dance studios where he played, and I sang opera arias for an hour. It was a great time. 

Martha Graham’s apartment was stuffed with antiques. There were so many pieces of furniture it was hard to move around. Boris cooked a delicious dinner and then took me home. A few weeks later, he called to say he was returning to Israel. It would have been nice to get to know him better. 

 

 

     Mustard covers the hillside of California in the spring.
 

   Onward and upward.