WE ARE IN THE SUPERB RITZ-CARLTON HOTEL WITH A MAGNIFICENT VIEW OF CENTRAL PARK. THEY HAVE THOUGHTFULLY PROVIDED A MOUNTED BRASS TELESCOPE IN THE WINDOW, SO WE CAN CHECK OUT THE NEIGHBORHOOD high-rise bedrooms. Voyeurism is a sport in New York. Mike Nichols told me he once watched a particularly steamy bedroom scene across the park and when it was over and they snapped on the light he realized he had been watching an old man clipping his toenails.
I train the telescope on one of the lakes and watch a magnificent heron fishing, stepping gingerly on its elegant legs. The rain has passed and it’s one of those brilliant blue New York days. The leaves seem late to turn and have not yet reached Vermont standards, but there are one or two magnificent magentas. I’m on a vow of silence. My laryngitis is still with me, but not bad. I got through last night, at Town Hall, though squeaky on the high notes and a little hoarse. The audience response was great and friends flattering, though that is the very least you expect of friends. If they can’t lie convincingly to you after a show, why have friends? You don’t really expect them to come back and say “Darling, you were shite.” Mike (Nichols) tells me his favorite thing to do is go backstage, spread his hands wide, and say “What can I say?” Mercifully, he doesn’t use this line on me, but only because I suspect he was catching up on his jet lag…. He was full of health concerns and strongly advised no whispering and no talking for the first two hours in the morning. So I’m talking to my diary instead of my beloved. We ran out of sign language.
Is your wife a goer? Eh? Know what I mean? Know what I mean? Nudge, nudge! Know what I mean? Say no more!
Tania is off to lunch with Lauren Hutton, and I can’t go because of my semi-Trappist vow of silence. I love Hutton. She is my adopted sister, and she’s coming to the show tonight. I’ll always remember her in Hollywood, mooning me on Sunset, sticking her ass out the window of a passing car. She asked me once what quote to use when she retired from being the face of Revlon. I suggested she say, “It’s time for America to sit on a new face.” She is my daughter’s fairy godmother, having adopted her once when babysitting beside a pool in Hollywood. In our absence the baby Lily began to wail, and she has very powerful lungs.
“Give her dry suck,” said Lauren.
“What’s that?” the sitter asked.
“You don’t know what dry suck is?” she said, and with a big grin, clamped the young Lily onto her exquisite nipple. Oddly, shortly thereafter, Lily developed a gap in her teeth!