Nico loves you.
One handy tip I've learned from Jayne Mansfield is that fresh tomato juice + fresh lemon juice = perfect hangover cure. Jayne, in her latter years a notorious lush, frequently ordered hotel staff to squeeze tomatoes for her, strain the juice, then follow suit with lemons and combine the liquids in precisely equal parts. She demanded several tumblers of this tomato-lemon cocktail, and while it might seem a little extravagant to expect such a service, don't believe for a minute that she tipped the servers for all their hard work. Even after huge dinner parties with several of her Hollywood pals, she never tipped more than $1, no matter the total cost of the meal. The waitstaff were privileged, Jayne philosophized, to have waited on someone so famous and glamorous.
Sunday morning, sitting at Lucky's Diner in Dallas, eating Belgian waffles and a side of sliced tomatoes with orange juice (hey, I'll take what I can get), I heard Carly Simon and James Taylor's 1980s murder of the song "Mockingbird," originally by Inez & Charlie Foxx. Talk about stripping music of its soul! I was outraged and it made my head throb. (Apologies to any Carly Simon fans -- she's okay, but she'd be better off leaving R&B classics alone.)
But then at the table to my left, I overheard this guy telling his friends, "You've got to see 'Vegas in Space'! It's the best movie ever, a total classic and you will love it!" I wanted to say, hey! I like that movie, too.
But unfortunately, experience has taught me that admitting to eavesdropping is hardly a good way to make friends.
One time at Denny's, years ago, I overheard these art-school types discussing the Velvet Underground and Nico. I got all excited and just wanted to be friendly, so I peeped over the booth and said, "Hello! Excuse me but I also love Nico. 'The Marble Index' is possibly the most revolutionary album in pop history!"
Their table hushed to a silence. Then one girl snarled and said, "I'm sure Nico loves you, too." And they smirked at each other as if to say, what a total dork, oh, my, god.
The next day I went to see my friend Alex, and she had written NICO LOVES YOU in sidewalk chalk in front of her house. I thought she was making fun but only now do I realize we were sorta in that same dork-boat together and her sidewalk art was a gesture of solidarity.
Sunday morning, sitting at Lucky's Diner in Dallas, eating Belgian waffles and a side of sliced tomatoes with orange juice (hey, I'll take what I can get), I heard Carly Simon and James Taylor's 1980s murder of the song "Mockingbird," originally by Inez & Charlie Foxx. Talk about stripping music of its soul! I was outraged and it made my head throb. (Apologies to any Carly Simon fans -- she's okay, but she'd be better off leaving R&B classics alone.)
But then at the table to my left, I overheard this guy telling his friends, "You've got to see 'Vegas in Space'! It's the best movie ever, a total classic and you will love it!" I wanted to say, hey! I like that movie, too.
But unfortunately, experience has taught me that admitting to eavesdropping is hardly a good way to make friends.
One time at Denny's, years ago, I overheard these art-school types discussing the Velvet Underground and Nico. I got all excited and just wanted to be friendly, so I peeped over the booth and said, "Hello! Excuse me but I also love Nico. 'The Marble Index' is possibly the most revolutionary album in pop history!"
Their table hushed to a silence. Then one girl snarled and said, "I'm sure Nico loves you, too." And they smirked at each other as if to say, what a total dork, oh, my, god.
The next day I went to see my friend Alex, and she had written NICO LOVES YOU in sidewalk chalk in front of her house. I thought she was making fun but only now do I realize we were sorta in that same dork-boat together and her sidewalk art was a gesture of solidarity.