Liza in Concert
Harrah’s Rincon Hotel/Casino
Valley Center, (near San Diego) California
November 1-3, 2006
As most longtime Liza fans understand, every Liza adventure includes a
bit of frustration. One needs patience, but the reward is great. This is the
tale of my most recent Liza adventure, and, of course, I hope there will
be many more.
When I first read last summer that Liza would be performing relatively close to our southern California winter home in early November I knew I wanted to go. It had been over two years since I had seen Liza perform live. I called Harrah’s Rincon Casino/Hotel, and booked a room for my husband Dave and myself for the nights of Nov. 1 and 2.
We were unfamiliar with Harrah’s Rincon, but learned that it was in the high desert outside of San Diego. Actually it’s an hour from San Diego in Valley Center, Indian land in the boulder-strewn mountains near Mt. Palomar. In the valley there are huge citrus orchards, many planted up the sides of the rocky foothills.
When I called Harrah’s for room reservations I also requested tickets for Liza’s shows. To my surprise, I was informed that tickets wouldn’t actually go on sale until September 30 and one had to get tickets through TicketWeb. I marked my calendar. I was online when the tickets went on sale at 9 a.m. It appeared that the Nov. 1 show was already sold out and the only tickets available for Nov. 2 were not particularly good. I kept switching back and forth between dates seeing if anything would change. I wanted just one ticket for the first and two for the second.
Frustrated, when my results didn’t improve, I called TicketWeb and finally settled on two average seats left of center for the night of Nov. 2. The tickets would be sent to our home in La Quinta near Palm Springs. I rationalized that once at Harrah’s I could surely get a single seat for Nov. 1 though I might have to pay more than the single ticket price of $40. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d only paid $40. for a ticket to see Liza!
Once we had resettled in our home in La Quinta in early October, I started
checking the mail for our tickets. I also wrote Liza and her assistant Ira that we would be at Harrah’s Nov. 1 –2 and had tickets for the show on Nov. 2. I said I would, of course, love the opportunity to say hello.
When our tickets didn’t arrive by mid October, I checked TicketWeb and learned that they had already been shipped. If I didn’t receive them I was to wait and call two days before the show and request duplicates be left for me at the venue. I started to worry, but after another week the tickets finally arrived. One of the most annoying problems of having two residences is getting the mail stopped and started in our new location. Invariably some mail is forwarded back and forth before we finally receive it in the correct place. And that is exactly what had happened to my missing tickets. As it turned out, I didn’t even need tickets.
On Halloween I packed for both ourselves and our Australian Shepherd. I could
already feel my Liza excitement ( and nervousness) kicking in. Living in a gated
community of mostly retirees or semi-retirees, we had no “trick or treaters” but
talked to our daughter in Portland who was expecting “hundreds” in her neighborhood. Our little granddaughters were excited.
However, my mind wasn’t on Halloween, it was on the prospect of seeing Liza again. By nine we were in bed, with the television on. I rarely watch television at night, but Halloween night I definitely wanted to watch Liza in her “Patsy Ramsey” role on “Law and Order, C.I. “ We watched; Liza stole the show, very convincing as the bereaved mother. I thought: she continues to amaze me with her abundance of talent.
The morning of November 1 I delivered our Aussie, her crate, food, and toys to the “Grand Paw” kennel in Indio and returned home to help Dave load the car for our trip. It was about eleven in the morning and before we left, I decided to
call Harrah’s and leave a short message for Gary Labriola, Liza’s longtime road manager who began working with Liza again after the David Gest era. Though I hadn’t seen Gary for years, I felt he would remember me. Gary wasn’t in his room, so I left a simple message and my cell phone number.
Then we headed west to Valley Center, wherever that was. Due to the horrific “Esperanza” fire we chose a back route over the mountains which skirted the devastation of the previous week and took us through the dramatic landscape of the Santa Rosa and San Jacinto mountains and San Bernardino National Forest on winding two lane roads. We stopped for lunch at the Paradise Café near the town of Idyllwyld.
After two hours of driving through the mountainous terrain of incredible
rock out- croppings, giant boulders, cactus, and tumbleweed, we wound down
into the city of Temecula where we passed the Pachanga Casino where Liza
had performed in 2005. Once through Temecula we found ourselves back
on winding roads in what seemed a rural area of citrus orchards. Around
one bend in the road the monolithic “Harrah’s Rincon” appeared out of no where. We were in Valley Center. When I checked in I asked if there were any messages for me. The answer was no.
Once settled in our room on the fifth floor, I called Gary again. I left a
message that I would enjoy attending the sound check if possible. I left
my room number and my cell phone number. We then left the room and
went back down to the lobby to explore this huge hotel and casino.
When I had confirmed our room reservations via phone, I had been told
that sometimes extra show tickets were available at the gift shop. I went there
first. Much to my delight they did have a few tickets, and I bought a single
ticket for myself for that night’s show. Still only $40. I was excited.
We found the casino noisy and busy, the “Fiore” restaurant, where we had reservations for six o’clock, and the “Pavillon,” the hotel theatre. Peeking through the theatre doors we could see the band setting up, the six hundred empty straight back chairs, and no one I recognized. I spoke briefly with a
young man who seemed to represent the hotel. He said Gary should be
down soon and the sound check would be at four. It must have been about
three o’clock. I went to a bar which was close to the “Pavillon” picked up a
cocktail napkin and wrote another message to Gary. I was suspicious Gary wasn’t in his room to check his messages. I found the “Pavillon” ‘manager’ again and handed him my napkin note to give to Gary.
When we returned to our room we received a call from our son. No sooner
had I put my cell phone back in my large handbag than it rang again.
Gary, who had always been accommodating and pleasant to me, nonetheless
at times distant or preoccupied, said, “Hi, I got your message, tried calling earlier, but you didn’t answer” (we were probably out of cell phone range when he called and he hadn’t left a message).
“Good to hear your voice again, Gary, I said, “it’s been a long time.” “I read your book, “he replied. “ “ Oh, I’m so glad you got it, “ I said. “The sound check starts at 4:30, but Liza won’t be down until 5:00. I have “comp” (complimentary) tickets for you for tonight, but you’ll have to come back down to get them at the box office.” I thanked him profusely, and was tingling with excitement. It was like old times or maybe even a little better than old times. Gary had mellowed. I’d seen recent pictures of him, finding it hard to believe that his black hair was now nearly white.
My heart was racing . My “Liza energy” was surging through me. I told Dave that I had time ( and way too much nervous energy ), so I thought I would go back down to the lobby and find the box office. So back I went winding my way through the casino again, where everyone was so intent on their video slot machines. Once I found the box office, I got my one comp ticket, Dave choosing to only attend the Nov. 2 show for which we had the TicketWeb tickets. But now I found myself with two tickets for that night’s show. I went back to the gift shop and talked the cashier into refunding my money for the ticket I’d bought an hour earlier. The comp ticket was much closer to the stage. The cashier wanted to know how I got a “comp.” “Longtime fan,” I said, and I know her road manager.
She was very sweet and seemed happy for me.
Then it was back to our room to change for the evening. I arrived at the
theatre at about 4:50 p.m. for the sound check. Aside from the band,
lighting techs at the back of the theatre, and two or three representatives from the hotel seated off to one side, I was alone. One hotel employee said, “May I help you?” Another, the man I had met earlier when we peeked through the closed doors, said, “Oh, she’s with the band.” I was?
I had my pick of 598 seats and chose one in the second row, center. Having attended a sound check or two before, I knew Liza might work for only a few minutes, so I had no intention of being shy about my presence. Gary arrived and greeted me with a big hug! A hug from Gary, now this was something new; maybe he really had read my book and liked it. Maybe he liked seeing fans
he’d known for so many years. His greeting felt very good, and I certainly
appreciated it.
Pappy joined the other band members. They started talking among themselves
and after a few minutes Liza casually walked on stage. Liza’s quiet arrivals unnerve me. Some part of me expects her entrance to always be heralded by a drum roll and trumpets. When she appears without fanfare, often sans make-up and in casual attire, she seems a little “out of context.” I think of the song, “It’s a Quiet Thing.” I feel a bit disoriented, perhaps out of place, when the non-performing Liza walks softly into the room I’m in. Where is the brass band and what is she thinking about? But, for me, it’s also like someone just turned on a light in a dark room.
My “idol” for nearly thirty years, was dressed casually in an oversized pink hooded cotton knit jacket and black tights. Satin lettering spelled out “San Diego” on the comfy jacket. I couldn’t help but wonder, did she buy the jacket in the airport? Had someone given it to her? Before Liza reached center stage, she reached into the pocket of the jacket, took out some Kleenex, and started blowing her nose. Oh dear, I thought, but said nothing… I just watched as she blew, and wondered if she would notice me sitting there alone.
We first acknowledged each other with waves. I asked if she had a cold, fearing she might. Liza, responded, “No, it’s just cold in here…but I like that,” and then she went to work. She practiced her opening song,“I Can See Clearly Now, discussed the song list, said she might dance, and joked with the band. She really got laughing over something the keyboardist did…and asked his age. He said, “43,” and she responded that he couldn’t keep doing that (what I wasn’t sure ) or he would wear out or something.
The size of the rather large monitors was discussed with the stage manager.
Should they insist on smaller one’s? They didn’t, and I never noticed Liza
referring to them at all during the show.
At one point I caught Liza’s eye and pointed to my digital camera. She
said, “Sure.” I snapped a couple of pictures but quickly realized my flash
wasn’t strong enough to take good pictures with the back lighting of the
stage spots, so I stopped.
In another moment, Liza looked down at me in the sea of empty seats and said, “Do you feel as well as you look?” Good grief, what a question! Taken
a back, I simply replied, “Well, most of the time.” I doubted Liza wanted to
hear about my aches and pains at age sixty-six.
How do you answer a question like that? Naturally, I might have responded with the same question for her, but in Liza’s presence my verbal skills often fail me. Of course, I loved the compliment from Liza and chose to take her unexpected comment as such. I did manage to say she looked great as she had on television the night before. I was referring to her role on” Law and Order, C.I.” but she didn’t seem to pick up on it.
When the band members were busy doing something, Liza stepped over
stage right, bent over at the waist, clasped her hands, and did a good back
stretch by stretching her arms back between her slightly bent knees. I tried the
exercise later, and it feels good to the lower back.
When it was obvious that Liza was satisfied with the plans for the evening
and the check seemed over, I walked up to the stage to say hello. As I
approached Liza, I said, “ It’s Beverly,” ( just in case my name wasn’t on the tip of her tongue). She said, “I know,” and I told her I’d see her after the show. Liza left the stage, and I returned to our room briefly before Dave and I went back down to dinner.
After dinner I freshened up in our room and then got in line with my
“comp” ticket for the show at 8. Unlike most Liza concerts I’ve attended
over the years, this one started exactly on time. The crowd, however, kept dribbling in in most casual dress, carrying drinks, and looking like most would just as soon be home in bed or back at the slot machines. Before the lights dimmed I did, however, strike up a fun conversation with an unattached couple seated behind me. They were both very nice, one a “professional” gambler who made a living wage on “Crazy Sevens” ( thought maybe I would try that variety of slot machine ) and a delightful rounded woman who appeared of Hawaiian descent. We talked about Liza, I told them I thought they would really enjoy the show…and they did.
When Liza walked on stage, with no introduction, I stood, but most
did not. One young man handed her a bouquet of flowers. She took
the flowers, thanked him and deposited them on the top of the piano.
She was dressed in her sequined pinkish ivory mini dress with matching
jacket. Opening with “I Can See Clearly Now, “ she quickly had the gamblers
in the palm of her hand….well, at least most. They all loved “Sara Lee.”
Liza was in excellent voice and definitely didn’t seem to have a cold.
Although often reported, I personally have rarely heard anyone shout out,
“Sing ‘Over the Rainbow’ ! “ But it happened Nov. 1 at Harrah’s. Liza responded
as always, “It’s been done, and no one can do it better.” Some people still don’t
“get it.”
Johnny Rodgers at the piano was a hit with the crowd while Liza made her
costume change. He sang “Leave Your Hat On, “ and then “Birth of the Blues”
before Liza rejoined him on stage.
Liza returned in a gorgeous shimmery beaded off the shoulder top and
velveteen looking slender pants, embroidered on the sides. The beaded
top looked, at least under the lights, like this yummy silvery green and the
pants a dark grey green color. Liza didn’t dance the first night but brought
the crowd to its feet with “Cabaret.” She concluded with “New York, New York,” hitting all but the highest note, and did not return for an encore. The
crowd seemed a bit hum-drum from my point of view and either Liza wasn’t
feeling one hundred percent or sensed they’d had enough.
When the house lights came on I went to the backstage entrance adjacent
to the stage. Gary welcomed me into the reception area, a medium sized room
with no flowers, food, or drinks, aside from water and coffee. How unlike
the old days.
Gary pointed out his college age son who was seated at a laptop computer.
I could tell that Gary was proud.
I introduced myself to Johnny Rodgers and told him how much I’d enjoyed
his part in the show. Johnny, youthful (Liza referred to him as “about 12” on
stage) with blonde spikey hair, gave me a book mark size advertisement for
his new CD “ Box of Photographs.” I jokingly said, “ I’ll buy your CD if you
buy my book, “ following up my crack with a brief explanation. Later I said
I’d bring him a copy the next night. [ Once home I did order is new CD
and am finding it very pleasant to listen to. There are a couple of his songs
I particularly like.]
I introduced myself to Casey, Liza’s new-to-me assistant. She seemed
to recognize my name and said, “I read your book.” I have to admit I was
surprised, but it felt good to know it had been brought to her attention
or she had found Liza’s copy lying around some where. I told Casey that
I understood she was designing some of Liza’s costumes. She responded
that she was designing all of them, and I complimented her on the silvery
green costume, which I thought gorgeous. I said with a smile, “I’d like one just like it.” She said, “Liza has great shoulders referring to the off shoulder look, and I replied, “I don’t.”
I mentioned to Casey that a few years ago when she had phoned Sue Meyer, that some of us were suspicious she wasn’t who she said she was. Casey smiled and said, “That was in the Gest era.” (Actually it was at the end of the Gest era as I recall.)
I chatted with Bill, and we had our picture taken together. I had expected
to see Liza’s dog Emmalina running around, but she didn’t appear. When Liza came out of the dressing room in her black velour “warm-ups,” she smiled, and I
said, “I would really appreciate a picture….the last one taken of us was
in 1982!” I’ve forgotten now who took our picture with my camera, maybe
Johnny Rodgers, but I was thrilled to finally get an updated photo of we
two sixty- somethings.
At least I was exited until I saw the photo upload on my computer….then
I saw the ageing that had taken place over the past twenty five years! Not
Liza, who looks more fifty than sixty, but me. I look my nearly sixty-seven
years.
After chatting a bit, Liza turned and said, “I have to go to work.” I hadn’t
a clue what she meant when she said it, but I soon learned. We had been
standing in the hallway to her dressing room and Liza headed for the
reception area where she was expected to “meet and greet” a group of
show-goers and pose for a Polaroid picture with each. It was “work” to
stand there welcoming each person, smile and send them on their way
with a good memory.
I watched for a bit, then headed back upstairs where I once again regaled
my husband with my evening backstage with Liza.
Not being gamblers ( though I did end up winning about $30. on a
“Crazy Sevens” machine) , Dave and I enjoyed a leisurely room service breakfast the morning of Nov. 2 and decided to head for the pool. It was a beautiful day, but we had the huge pool and several jacuzzis almost to ourselves. Most preferred to stay inside in the darkened casino and gamble, I guess.
After a swim, I read a bit, then we got in one of the jacuzzis with a man in his forties, who turned out to be a “compulsive” gambler from Charleston, S.C. He was friendly but talked non-stop about the nuances of video poker games. Quickly tiring of the conversation, we decided to dry off and eat lunch outside near the bar and restaurant servicing the virtually empty pool area.
We had just ordered when I noticed Bill LaVorgna walking out into the pool area, with an unlit cigar in his hand. I waved, and he came over to our table.
My husband Dave has always enjoyed Bill, finding him friendly, interesting,
and closer to our age than most in Liza’s entourages. Bill seemed genuinely pleased to see Dave again, and we invited him to join us not imagining he really would. He said he’d already eaten, but would like to join us.
Bill sat down at our table for four and set his unlit cigar aside. The first thing Bill said to me was, “ I saw you sitting out there at the sound check, and waved. But you didn’t see me; I guess you were watching her.” Bill had come on stage only minutes before Liza at the sound check, so I didn’t realize he had seen me. He was busy with drumming, directing the band and listening to Liza’s input. I hadn’t noticed Bill acknowledging me and am sorry I didn’t. I suspect I was watching “her.” One forgets that those on stage can see us in the audience too sometimes).
Over our lunch, and later Bill’s cigar and my cigarette, we enjoyed nearly
an hour and a half with Liza’s musical director and drummer of thirty years.
When we had first met Bill in 1979, he and his wife owned a house and farm in New York State. They raised sheep. In time they had moved to another house and farm on Chesapeake Bay. Though our relationship was still legendary musician and fan, we got along well and found enough commonalities to keep a conversation going for some time. He said, “I’ve always liked you guys.”
Bill LaVorgna is a charmer, naturally extroverted and gregarious. This afternoon he entertained us with stories which ranged from Liza and David’s wedding to his passion for sport fishing. Seventy-three, Bill has been married for fifty-three years --- to the same woman---and quoted Liza as saying that his wife deserved the “Iron Cross” for standing by him for so long☺ They have three sons, two doctors and a musician, and six granddaughters!
The LaVorgnas now live in Florida. Initially they bought a condominium, but decided they preferred a house as they had always had. Their waterfront
home is large enough to accommodate any visiting children or grandchildren.
We may have been talking about the aggravation of serving on homeowner
association boards when a woman who had been sunning on a chaise near our table, got up, apologized for interrupting, and told Bill how much she enjoyed the show and admired his talent. Her father and/or brother had also been drummers. She was most pleasant, and we all reminisced about Buddy Rich and Gene Krupa, both famous drummers and old friends of Bill’s. Rich and Bill had been particularly close friends, and Bill spoke with Buddy right before Rich died. He also attended his funeral.
There were many questions I wanted to ask Pappy about Liza, and he
probably would have answered most, but I didn’t think it approprieate. He brought up the subject of her marriage and admitted that he had never heard of David Gest until Liza called to tell him she planned to get married. Bill felt Liza very vulnerable at the time. He said the wedding was spectacular, but I got the impression Bill, like the rest of us, isn’t a fan of Mr. Gest. He asked me if I knew Gest’s civil suit had been dismissed. I said, “yes,” and we went onto to
a different topic.
One Liza related topic of conversation was her encephalitis. I asked Bill
how she might have contracted the debilitating condition, “a mosquito bite?”
He said, “probably, we have lots of mosquitos” [in Florida.] He said that Liza
told him how surreal she felt when she was suffering the inflammation of
her brain.
That afternoon I also learned a thing or two about deep-sea fishing and the exotic places Bill and his friends have fished for bill-nosed fish. Dave shared his few deep sea fishing experiences; it was a normal conversation except that Liza’s name would come up from time to time. As much fun as we were having listening to Bill, I wished, once or twice, that Liza was with the three of us in such a relaxing atmosphere.
The sunning lady had actually asked where Liza was, and Bill had looked at his
watch and said, “She’s upstairs sleeping.” It must have been two o’clock in the afternoon. I remembered Connie Yamada, telling me year’s ago: “Liza sleeps
all day.” Of course, those were the years when Liza was performing two shows
a night at the casino hotels.
Bill tried to recall the date of some long ago performance or event with
Liza and I said, “Well, we would have to ask Scott.” Bill said, “Who’s that?”
And I replied, you know, the man who wrote the book about Liza’s career.
“Oh, yes, “he responded, “I know, he sent me a signed copy. That was very
nice of him.”
I said, “Scott’s also doing an excellent job with Liza’s official website.”
I doubt Bill LaVorgna is much of a computer person, because he then said,
“Do you know about the German kids? I said, “Yes, I’ve seen their website.”
“They’re great…I call them “Hansel and Gretel”…but their names are really
Florian and Amke.” We all agreed that it was wonderful that Liza has a
whole new generation of fans.
And it was probably then that I asked Bill to help me with the song list
because a young fan in Germany had requested it…I don’t take notes during
concerts…so I needed help. Bill said, “Well, let’s see…this will be good
for me…”and started in. I got out a little Harrah’s notepad that I’d
stuck in my purse and wrote as Bill and I went through each song title:
I Can See Clearly Now
Our Love is Here to Stay
Come in from the Rain
Sara Lee
So What?
What Did I Have
Here’s to the Band
Alexander’s Ragtime Band
Johnny Rodgers : “Keep Your Hat On “ and “Birth of the Blues”
Let Yourself Go
Best Friend
Cabaret
New York, New York
(The second night, Liza danced as Johnny reprised “Birth of the Blues,”
added “Showstopper” and sang acapella
for an encore.)
I told Bill I wished Liza would sing “ A Quiet Thing,” “The World Goes ‘Round,” or even “Maybe Next Time,” but he said, no, she won’t. I gathered that she didn’t want to vary from the current concert list for some reason, probably time.
Still in my swimsuit with a towel tucked around my waist, I suddenly realized
I was getting chilly. I said, “Sorry, but I have to put on my jacket. I reached
in a bag which held the clothes I’d worn to walk through the lobby and pulled
out my lightweight grey “Talbot’s” sweats. Not wanting to leave the table and miss a second of this unexpected time with Bill, I said, “Excuse me, but I’m putting on my clothes.” I removed the towel and quickly pulled my sweat pants on over my now quite dry swimsuit, then put on my jacket. While doing this, I kept thinking, this is unbelievable! From anyone else’s viewpoint we would
be three old-timers just having a nice time together.
Bill finished his cigar, and Dave and I were ready to head back to the room. Dave and I thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated Bill’s friendliness and looked forward to seeing him again that evening backstage after the show. When we finally all got up to leave the table Bill said, “You’re coming back tonight, aren’t you?” “Yes, yes,” we said.
That afternoon I called Casey and requested an autographed picture of Liza
for a young fan friend. There were no programs at Harrah’s or any Liza
memorabilia for sale. That seemed strange.
Casey said they were between old and new head shots of Liza, but she could do that. I provided my address and she promised to send it to me to forward. I asked Casey if Marcia wås still handling the fan mail and she said yes, she was. We talked a bit about Liza enjoying a new and younger fan base, and Casey said, “I think it has something to do with “Arrested Development.” Playing the delightful role of “Lucille 2” definitely brought Liza new fans, but I think more importantly, younger fans are discovering her uplifting music and loving it.
Dave and I decided to order a light dinner in our room before dressing for
the Thursday evening show. The room service staff at Harrah’s Rincon was
very friendly. The man who brought our Reuben and Chicken Quesadilla
asked if we were having fun at the casino. Were we winning? We said we
were having a great time, but had come to see Liza.
The waiter responded proudly, “I served her room last night after the show.” Always the curious fan, I asked what he had served. He said, “Oh, it was only three or four Pepsis.” “She had some gay guys up there.” Bill had mentioned that they had watched Liza’s “Law and Order, C.I.” episode after the show, so I assume “the gay guys” were band members and doubt they were all gay.
When we got to the theatre we noticed Gary talking to two men in the
audience. We went over to him so Dave could say hello. Gary, said, “Did
you get your comps?” “No,” I replied, “ I didn’t know….are they any good?”
Gary knew I was joking I hope,, and said, “ Well, they should be right in here some place.” We were standing in about the sixth row.
I took my TicketWeb tickets back out to the little Box Office, where the manager, who now recognized me, having earlier honored my request for a plastic (yes, plastic!) yellow hotel poster advertising Liza’s show, traded my tickets for Gary’s comps. The comps were in the sixth row, aisle seats on the left. Excellent; Dave
and I were very appreciative of this unexpected upgrade in our seating.
The November 2nd show was dynamite, much stronger than the Wednesday
night performance. The crowd was more animated and appreciative.
Liza sang beautifully and even danced, complete with fedora, to “Birth of
the Blues.” How she can dance as well as she does after two hip replacements
and knee surgery, just shows her strength and determination to continue to
entertain us. Dave loved seeing Liza again after four years, and was impressed
with her enthusiastic and talented pianist, Johnny Rogers. Her acapella encore
“My Shining Hour” was beautiful.
Immediately after the show, I told Dave to wait for me outside the entry
to backstage as I had to run to the restroom. I had a bit of wait in the ladies
room, and by the time I returned to the theatre, I found not only my husband
seated in a chair, but two groups of “meet and greeters” lined up along the wall. There must have been close to forty people in the line to meet Liza. Dave
later described them as excited, many primping for their opportunity to
to meet “the star.”
There were a few other fans milling about. A gay man and another couple were talking. The gay man held a copy of the old “Architectural Digest” magazine which featured Liza and Mark Gero’s Manhattan apartment.
Gary was talking to someone and Bill was signing the back of a man’s
oil painting featuring three versions of a singing Liza. Gary and Bill went
back into the reception area, and we waited, assuming we would be allowed
in momentarily. Both Gary and Bill had seen us, but seemed distracted, and I wasn’t sure what was going on. I thought I saw Johnny Rodgers leave the theatre, but wasn’t positive it was him or another band member. His hair looked different than the night before or on stage.
A well dressed woman in her fifties repeatedly asked the security guards to get Gary; she, like I, had been invited back stage. We were both a little frustrated and confused, but I knew we were all probably waiting for Liza to change.
One of the “meet and greeters” at the head of the line and closest to the half open door to backstage, suddenly said, “ Oh, I can see a little dog running around. Looks like a little Schnauzer. “ Maybe I would get to see Emmalina again I thought. I had first met Liza’s new dog in Saratoga in 2004; she is very cute.
Another well dressed couple approached the guards, flashed some kind of card
( I assumed a Harrah’s “Diamond” card or some such indication that he was
a good customer deserving special treatment) and said they wanted to go backstage. The guard said, no, only people with identifying group stickers on their shirts were to be let in. The man was angry and stalked off indicating
he would speak to someone “higher up” than the security guard, but I
never saw him return.
Finally the first group (probably on a special bus tour) , all wearing purple tags, were allowed to file in the reception area. Ah…I said, Liza must be ready to greet. But apparently she wasn’t, because it was a long time before the”meeters” started exiting.
Dave, who suffers from back pain, was tired of sitting on one of the straight backed chairs and said, “I’m going up to the room.” I was disappointed that he was too uncomfortable to wait to see Liza and Bill again, but looked at the second and longer line of “meeters” with their yellow tags, and thought this might take a while.
Dave left, and I stood impatiently and finally started chatting with the man with the “Architectural Digest. ” I said, “Oh, I have that issue too.” He wanted to have Liza autograph it. He asked if I might take it to her. I said I doubted
she’d sign it, but I could try….assuming I was going back.
All this while the roadies were noisily disassembling all the stage equipment and
loading it in large containers. They worked very fast and with efficiency.
Once the “purple” people left the reception room, the “yellow” people were allowed to move in, and suddenly the line was really moving, as it had the night before, in and out, in and out.
The next thing I knew the man with the oil painting had preceded me backstage,
and I watched as Liza quickly admired his work and signed her name over one
of the images of herself. The activity was blocking my entry to the reception room, so I couldn’t go anywhere. When Liza finished signing the painting, she
noticed me and said, “Come on in; we’ll get a picture.” I followed her
into the reception room, put my large black handbag on a chair and started
rummaging in it for my camera. “I said, just a second, I need to get my camera
out. “ “Liza, said, he can take the picture, and gestured at the guy with a Polaroid who was still standing there. Liza was probably so tired she thought I was just another in the line…but maybe not. We smiled for him and another
man, who also took a picture with his digital camera. I never found out who
the second photographer was ( or why he too had taken our picture) , but wish I had. I’d like to see his picture ; the Polaroid was a little grainy.
While Liza and I posed she said, “Cute top,” referring to my new black
tunic style top trimmed with sequins on the mandarin collar and on the
cuffs of the sleeves. “Thanks…”Talbots,” I replied as I would have any
“girlfriend”, as the photographers snapped our picture. Funny, when I bought the blouse just a couple of weeks before, I thought of Liza and how it was reminiscent of something she might wear though I couldn’t imagine her shopping at Talbot’s.
I thanked Liza and then noticed Bill, who said, “Where’s Dave? ” “Oh, he
got tired waiting….” Referring to the groups of “meet and greeters,” Bill said, “Yeah, waiting for all that stuff.” I asked Bill the whereabouts of Johnny Rodgers. He said, “Oh, he split.” I said, “Oh, last night I promised him my book, could you give it to him? “ Bill, said, “ I will get it to him.” I handed Bill the copy of “Imagining Liza” I’d already signed to Johnny.
As Liza headed back to her dressing room, I said, “thank you and good-bye.” I had no idea at the time that Liza was preparing to leave for France and in twenty-four hours would be in Paris at a gala for new hotel opening with Marisa Berenson! By the time we were greeting our visiting son and daughter-in-law forty-eight hours later, Liza would be, I learned from an internet friend, in Athens for the weekend before returning to the States and flying back to California to perform at an AMFAR benefit Nov. 8 in San Francisco!
Another Liza adventure to be sure, and, of course, I loved every minute. It was special to reconnect with Bill and Gary. It is wonderful to see Liza enjoying the life she loves.
My memoir “Imagining Liza” was published in December 2000, two months after the birth of our first granddaughter and two months before the death of my
beloved childhood friend to whom the book is dedicated. Most of my readers,
particularly those who are also Liza fans, seem to be able to identify with
my Liza stories and have been most complimentary. I feared, however, that
perhaps Liza and “her people” wouldn’t be so receptive and maybe my fan
status would be jeopardized. However, having seen Liza twice now since
the book was published and being welcomed backstage on both occasions, I
can’t help but feel that my writing, a gift to myself, other fans, and particularly Liza, was well received. I am an immensely grateful “groupie.”
© 2006 Beverly Fauvre
