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“Don’t get mad, dahlink, get a younger man”

From the Sharon Dunn

‘Don’t get mad, dahlink, get a younger man’ Ivana Trump is completely in control

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post] Ivana Trump was in town to raise funds for the International Centre for Missing and Exploited Children. I first met Ivana Trump at the Polo Lounge in the Beverly Hills Hotel many years ago. She was still with The Donald then. As a matter of fact, it was about a week before the media got hold of the Marla Maples story. The Ivana I met at that time looked vulnerable and weak — it was obvious something was wrong in her life. I recall that she ordered a shrimp cocktail and proceeded to pick at it, while The Donald ordered a big, juicy hamburger and fries and had no problem wolfing them down.Last week I saw Ivana for the first time since that day many years ago. It was all very formal. When I was finally escorted into the suite at the King Edward Hotel, Ms. Trump was already seated and poised for the interview. She looked confident and in control, not at all like the Ivana I had met before.”You have five minutes,” an assistant tells me.”Five minutes! This was supposed to be a meal,” I complain, thinking of walking out. I change my mind, deciding there can only be one princess and Ivana has already assumed that role. Not wasting time, I decide to get right to it and ask her if she’s involved in a relationship.”Ms. Trump would rather not …” says the assistant.”So do you have a boyfriend?” I ask again, ignoring the publicist.”Yes,” she replies.I look toward the far end of the room where an exotic-looking, well-dressed young man is taking a seat in the corner.”Is he your lover?” I ask Trump.”Yes,” she answers bravely.I give the guy the once-over (we women do that, too, by the way). I know that Ivana is watching my reaction.”He’s much better-looking than any of your husbands,” I tell her. (She has been married three times.)With that she laughs, and I mean she really laughs. The publicist gives up.Trump is in town to lend her name and considerable marketing skills for the first annual Toast of Humanity, a charity involving members of the wine industry that this year is raising funds for the International Centre for Missing and Exploited Children. “Anything to do with the children has my attention,” she tells me.A savvy businesswoman and author, Trump is stunning in a beautiful black and sequined pantsuit. “It’s by a young Czech designer named Osming,” she says.She talks about her upbringing in Czechoslovakia. “When I was 13, I wasn’t a good student, and my parents were worried, so my father got me a job on the assembly line at the local shoe factory. After that I got straight As,” she laughs.She stresses the importance of discipline and focus in her life (starting from her days as a competitive skier), advising, “Don’t waste your life, don’t be like Scarlett O’Hara and think about doing it tomorrow. You have to follow up on your dreams, dare to be different.”Trump is a risk taker. Since she lives in New York, I ask her about 9/11. “I wasn’t afraid,” she tells me. “You have to live your life, not in fear. I fly American. I’m shocked and saddened [by what happened], but I’m not afraid.”She’s also a best-selling author. “Do you write your own books?””I dictate them. I tell the stories to the writer,” she replies. Her two latest books are on entertaining and how to stay in business. “Then I read the material and make [verbal] changes.” Now that’s the way to write a book — no toiling over a computer for days, months, years on end!”I refuse to lie down and die,” she tells me, an indication that she must have struggled to get where she is. “I have education, health, I like to work. I always will be able to support myself and count on myself.””Would you support a man?””It depends,” she tells me.I look at the suave and debonair fellow sitting quietly in the corner.”Are you and Ivana in love?” I ask him.”We’re not in love, we’re in Toronto,” he says, before smartly adding, “of course we’re in love.” His name is Rossano Rubicondi and he’s from Rome. Trump tells me he is her “assistant.” (Way to go, Ivana, I think to myself.) And although he’s young, Rubicondi and Trump do not look incongruous together. As a matter of fact, I suspect he has, or soon will have, trouble keeping up with her, as opposed to the other way around.I ask Trump, who writes for Divorce Magazine and does an advice column for The Globe, if she still believes in marriage. “Yes, but it’s harder and harder to stay together, because we’re living longer, so people are living together longer. It used to be that 40 years together was long, but now people are married 60 years or more. It’s not that marriages are failing more,” she concludes, “it’s just that people are living longer.””You’re definitely not the same woman I met at the Polo Lounge,” I tell her, as I get up to leave. She knows exactly what I mean. “Thank you,” she says.After the interview I mingle with the crowd as Trump and boyfriend make their grand entrance. At the sight of the boyfriend, one man rolls his eyes, “Young, isn’t he?” he whispers. “Probably still in his twenties.” Another adds, “She wanted $25,000 for this event, but she only got $5,000.” Yet another man says cattily, “Donald’s got all the money, she’s got nothing.”It appears some of the guys are threatened. How wonderful! And Ivana is out there, with her young, good-looking boyfriend, daring to be different, making money.More power to her. by Sharon Dunn

 So much for getting rid of the beast cheaply

From the Sharon Dunn

Raccoon solution on the nose So much for getting rid of the beast cheaply

A raccoon I had been away for merely a week, but when I got back I discovered that a big fat raccoon had taken up residence in my walls. Yes, this is Toronto, which seems to have a raccoon population of about eight million, beating the humans by three to one, and giving Toronto the distinction of being Raccoon Capital of the World! I first saw the beast jump in a hole in my garage wall and disappear, a sure sign all was not well. I love animals, So I tried to live in harmony with my new tenant, but this guy was living inside the wall right behind my bedroom. I could not live with the racket in the middle of the night. Had we been on the same schedule, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I’m just not as nocturnal as I used to be. He seemed friendly enough, hanging nonchalantly around the door at dinnertime, sharing food with the cat. However, friends pointed out that raccoons do a lot of damage and suggested I call a removal service immediately. When I heard it costs about $200 or so to get rid of raccoons, I resisted. No way was I going to spend that kind of money. “Just buy a trap,” said a friend, “only $44 at Canadian Tire, no big deal. Once you trap it, you take it to a ravine and let it go.” It seemed easy, and I liked the sound of just $44. So I bought one. My trapper pal had told me to use sardines for bait, but I was now in money-saving mode. Why buy sardines when I have leftover chicken in the fridge? So I gingerly put some chicken inside the crate, then settled down for the night. Suddenly, I jerked awake. There was a racket out on the deck and it wasn’t my raccoon I was smelling. I fretted until first light, then tiptoed outside to inspect. Sure enough, I had trapped a skunk, and he wasn’t happy. I knew what I had to do. Frantically, I picked up the phone. “$125 to remove the skunk,” the animal-removal service said. “$125?” I balked, but then imagined myself carrying a skunk to the ravine. Defeated, I told the wildlife removers to come over. Once they had the skunk in custody, I offered them the trap (albeit reeking of skunk goop) at a good price. I was still trying to save money. “Twenty dollars,” I told them (standing a good distance away, because, of course, they’d been skunked). They shook their heads. They’d done this before, and they knew I’d give them the trap for free — indeed, I pleaded with them to take it off my hands. It seems raccoons love sardines. Skunks don’t, they prefer chicken. By the next morning, the pros had trapped the resident raccoon with a proper trap (the sides covered in wood) and his garage entry into the walls of my house was repaired. All for just $225 plus tax. Plus, of course, the $125 for the removal of the skunk. And $44 for the cage. Almost $400… If only I’d invested in the sardines. by Sharon Dunn edited JAN 31/25

 TV’s Will & Grace satisfies, even when it doesn’t

From the Sharon Dunn

TV’s Will & Grace satisfies, even when it doesn’t I want them to marry, but of course that will never happen

[Photo: Yvonne Berg, National Post] Jon Kinnally, part of the writing team of TV’s Will & Grace, speaks at the Canadian Film Centre’s Test Pattern series at the ROM. I love a happy ending, I can’t help it. And I can prove it. For example, I still have tapes of The Love Boat, and just last week I sat mesmerized as the Bachelor made his final decision and, on bended knee, chose my favourite, the pretty brunette Helene, to be his one and only. (That should teach the blonds a lesson; more fun my foot. I, too, was once a brunette.) The knight in shining armour is as old a tradition as Mom’s apple pie, and I fall for it every time. So how do I explain my interest in another television show, Will & Grace, where the gorgeous leading man (Toronto’s Eric McCormack) is gay? If every straight female thinks like me, vicariously living the life of the show’s heroine, and if she can never get the handsome hero — well, no wonder the theme of homosexuality on television is still not an easy thing to portray. I spoke with Jon Kinnally and Tracy Poust, two of the writers of the smash hit TV show, who were at the ROM last week as part of an event sponsored by the Canadian Film Centre. The writing duo admit they were hired on in part because their relationship resembles that of the show’s star couple. Tracy is a nurturing, friendly girl-next-door type, and Jon is good-looking, smart — and gay. Struggling actors when they met waiting tables in New York City, Kinnally & Poust seem to be the backbone of the comedy and are certainly the adventurers. “We’re trying to mess Will up a bit,” says Kinnally. “The problem is that Eric’s a leading man, so it’s not easy to bring insecurity to his character. Although we haven’t yet seen Will intimate”, Kinnally says, “we would like to put that on the air. It’s a huge issue. Intimacy between two men is one of the last frontiers in the U.S.” He goes on to say, “You have to push the envelope. I want Will to make out, I hope it will happen.” Kinnally admits attaining that goal isn’t easy. “We’ve mellowed,” he says, “because we still want our show on the air. We’ve lost sponsors when it gets dicey, they’ve pulled out, ratings go down.” Still, he says when there’s trouble, usually he and Poust are behind it.I n case you haven’t been watching Will & Grace, let me bring you up to date. Things came to a head on last Thursday’s show, when Grace marries Leo (Harry Connick Jr.). Will admits he is afraid of being left alone, and sees his only option as “having a gay marriage where a drag queen sings Evergreen.” Today Show host Katie Couric, who guests on the wedding episode, is blamed when Grace and Leo find out their marriage is invalid because the minister hired by Couric’s television show isn’t licensed. They then plan a second wedding. This is the out, I figure; there will be no marriage. But the writers surprise me. The wedding does go on, with funny lines, like when the groom says, “I’ll try my best to make Grace as happy as you have, plus sex.” And when Will notes, “The cake showed up with two grooms on it. Is everyone gay in this city?”And even as Will walks Grace down the aisle (after her dad’s back gives out) and whispers, “This may be a bad time to tell you this, but I’m straight,” I still can’t believe she’s going through with it. And I can’t be the only one, since the show has an incredible following, even among celebs. “We’re becoming a high-end Love Boat” (so that explains my interest), says Kinnally. Aside from Harry Connick Jr., guests have included Woody Harrelson, Matt Damon, Kevin Bacon and Cher. Apparently both Madonna and Britney Spears have expressed interest in doing the show. How does the success affect Kinnally & Poust? “It gives you validation and confidence,” says Poust, adding, “we’re too neurotic to be too confident … a writer’s confidence is as good as the last job you pitched.” With eight other great writers on the show, Poust says, “you get used to a contrary opinion. You have to learn to smile.”Kinnally adds, “We do the first draft and everyone gets their chance at it, to take a joke and make it better. We look at what we wrote and it’s funny, and then we try to make it funnier. Sometimes I’m irritated by the rhythm,” he admits, “joke after joke.” “We also try not to date it,” Poust says. “Like if you watch Murphy Brown now, it’s dated; they’re talking about Dan Quayle. You can trash Madonna because she’ll be around for a hundred years,” she adds. “We’re a pop culture show, but we try to limit it a bit.” Kinnally gives some advice for young and old writers alike: “Don’t be afraid to write crap. It doesn’t have to be good, it’s all about the rewrite. Don’t be afraid to take chances.” I point out that I recently saw an episode that featured Will coming on to another man. “I was shocked,” I tell Kinnally, adding diplomatically, “not that there’s anything wrong with that.” I chalk up my reaction to the fact that I’ve never seen anything like it on TV. “And that episode is from our first season,” says Kinnally, pointing out how hard it has been through the past four years to progress on the homosexual theme.”Why can’t Will marry Grace?” I ask the writers. Kinnally looks at me in shock. After our discussion about finally breaking taboos, I still want the fairy-tale ending.” He can’t marry her,” he tells me in quiet desperation. “He’s gay.” To prove his point, Kinnally asks, “Sharon do you picture yourself ending up with a woman?” — trying to show me how the homosexual Will could never get away with marrying Grace on the show. I have to admit that I don’t, “but then again I don’t necessarily picture myself ending up with a man, either,” I tell Kinnally. He looks at me, confused. “Don’t go by me,” I add. “But please, (turning a blind eye to the facts), please let Will & Grace get married, they get along so great. I won’t be happy with anything less.” And now look what the writers have done to me. Grace has gone and married Harry Connick Jr. Who would have guessed? by Sharon Dunn

Mancuso as Socrates as Oliver North

From the Sharon Dunn

Mancuso as Socrates as Oliver North ‘It was a huge task to take on this guy,’ says the actor of his one-man show

[Photo: Carlo Allegri, National Post] Nick Mancuso stars in his adaptation of The Death of Socrates at Artword Theatre “Do you know the difference between an American lobster and a Canadian lobster?” asks actor Nick Mancuso, just a couple of days before the premiere of his one-man show. “Well, with American lobsters, you have to put the lid on the pot when you’re boiling them, otherwise they’ll all try to get out. But with Canadian lobsters, you don’t have to put the lid on because if one tries to get out the others will drag him back in.” Mancuso uses the lobster analogy to explain what it’s like being a Canadian artist in Canada and why he left to pursue his acting career in the United States more than 25 years ago.Since then, he’s been in more than 100 movies, and co-starred in more than half of them with the likes of Raquel Welch and Kim Basinger. Now, the 54-year-old Italian-born actor has returned to Toronto. “Nadia, my wife, and I decided to raise our son, Sacha, here so he can be around family.” His one-man show, The Death of Socrates, opened last night at Artword, and on Wednesday when I talked to him he certainly wasn’t anticipating an enthusiastic response.” I expect nothing but bad reviews and a negative response,” he said, primarily because the Canadian media is “unfair” when one of their own tries something different.” Yours is the only paper that even bothered to come out and cover this story. But I’ll continue to do it [his show] and other stories of the same ilk because I believe these kinds of stories need to be told.” Mancuso says the plain truth is that “in Canada if you try to stand out in the performing arts the reaction is, ‘Who does he think he is?’ “And he does stand out, at least in part because there aren’t all that many people who are passionate these days about Socrates.” The thing about Socrates is that he is underrated. I was looking for a character who would keep me interested but I think I bit off more than I can chew. It was a huge task to take on this guy.” Mancuso, who majored in philosophy at the University of Guelph, gives me a quick lesson on the ancient Greek teacher. “Socrates expressed the foundation of human democratic thinking about 400 years before Christ. He was found guilty by a jury of 600 Athenians (by a margin of only 30 votes) of heresy against the city gods and the corruption of youth.”Plato’s Apology, which recounts Socrates’s speech to the Senate, is regarded as the first courtroom drama ever recorded, and thus prime material for drama, says Mancuso.” After his conviction, when Socrates went in front of the jury to make his speech,” Mancuso says, “they had three options. They could have exiled him, they could have fined him and they could have executed him.”The jury sentenced him to death. “That’s because he pissed the jury off so much. In Greek it’s called arete — manhood. He looked them in the eye and said, ‘I am not afraid to die.’ It wasn’t false courage in the face of death, it was sticking with his beliefs. His students tried to bust him out of jail, but he said, ‘Why would I do that. Athens gave me life and now death. I’m not afraid of death because I don’t know what it is.’ “Mancuso says the last time Socrates was portrayed in Canada was in the 1950s, when Mavor Moore did the classic Socrates — you know, the fuddle-duddle professor, Mr. Magoo kind of character.” But Mancuso says his adaptation results from another vision of the great Greek, the man who found truth by asking questions. “I’m doing a modern-day Socrates as an Oliver North type of character — a soldier, a fighter, a spiritual warrior.”Socrates died because he believed in the right of the individual to worship the god of his choice. It was all about the separation of church and state. In those days they were autocrats, like Hussein.” Socrates, said Mancuso, believed these rights were worth putting himself on the line for. “He fought it, and all modern democratic beliefs can be traced back to Socrates.” Of Socrates the man, Mancuso says, “I don’t know much about the soap-opera aspect to Socrates’s life, but I do believe the theory that he was a henpecked husband because he was wandering around the agora [marketplace] all day. And when he finally came home, his wife would have had reason to nag him about it. But, ultimately, Socrates is famous as the teacher who taught his students to ask questions, and more questions, to find truth”. Mischievously, I ask a question of my own: “Who do you like better, Raquel Welch or Socrates?” “That’s a tough one,” he replies, without missing a beat. “What they have in common is that they don’t get enough respect. Raquel did it all on her own. She’s a tough-minded woman who worked hard to get where she is. Don’t underestimate Raquel,” he says. “And don’t underestimate Socrates.”The Death of Socrates continues to Dec. 1 at Artword Theatre, 75 Portland St. by Sharon Dunn

The one who let the Stones roll on

From the Sharon Dunn

The one who let the Stones roll on Bill Wyman talks about collecting, letting go and a familiar face

[Photo: Chris Bolin, National Post] “Before [my wife], I could never say ‘I love you’ to anyone – that’s from my working-class background, you know. Men don’t cry.”[TORONTO, ON] ‘A vodka tonic on ice,” Bill Wyman tells the waiter. I’m having lunch with the former Rolling Stones bass player. “You remind me of someone,” he tells me right off the top. “I just can’t put my finger on who.” Wyman orders a smoked salmon appetizer. “I hope it’s Scandinavian salmon,” he says, “it’s the best.” I mention to him that a number of Stones fans have said he did the right thing leaving the band 10 years ago (instead of hanging on forever).” A lot of people have said that,” he replies, “but [the Stones] are getting good reviews too — maybe they’re right as well. I’ve been happier since I left,” Wyman insists. “I loved my 32 years with the band, but now I have freedom to do what I want.” Since leaving the Stones, Wyman has formed a blues band called Bill Wyman’s Rhythm Kings, and has just written his fourth book, Rolling with the Stones. An earlier book, Bill Wyman’s Blues Odyssey, won the Blues Foundation’s 2002 ‘Keepin’ the Blues Alive’ Award for Literature. Wyman is in Toronto to promote ‘Rolling with the Stones’, a virtual encyclopedia on the history of the band. Wyman, a collector since he was a child, saved every piece of memorabilia from the old days. “I’m the only musician from the ’60s who saved the clippings,” Wyman says. He says he even saved memorabilia from other bands, including rare footage of the Beatles. “I gave the Beatles the tape of their first show in America. It was in Washington, filmed in black and white. They had never seen it before. Paul McCartney cried when I first showed it to him.”Unlike other books on bands, says Wyman, “I didn’t have to go to fans for my material — 95 % of the book is from my own collection.” The book took an intense six or seven months to put together, he says. “There was no stopping me, it was a labour of love. I never do anything I don’t like to do now. When I was in the band, I had to be more diplomatic.”The book has more than 3,000 photos and illustrations. “I actually have 40,000 illustrations,” he says, “but we couldn’t use them all.” Wyman credits co-author Richard Havers for helping him sort through the material. “I couldn’t have done it on my own. “Still, when I ask Wyman to name his favourite collectible, he asks, “Does it have to be from the Stones?” He then confides that it’s a 17th-century book made by a Swedish scientist in the 1600s. “This guy went around the world collecting butterflies and moths and then painted them,” says Wyman in awe. “I only paid 100 pounds for it, but I was offered 800 pounds.” Amazingly, Wyman seems more impressed with this than with his Stones memorabilia, some of which would be a lot more valuable than the butterfly book. “Who is your favourite Stone?” I ask. “Charlie Watts,” he answers without skipping a beat. “We were the first at everything,” he tells me, “the first married, first with children, the most reliable and stable. We were the straightest rhythm section in rock ‘n’ roll.” On the subject of drugs he surprises me. “I’ve never touched opium, LSD, cocaine.” “Oh come on,” I say in disbelief. “Honestly,” he tells me. “I knew I’d probably like it too much, so I stayed away.” He tells me that Watts stayed away from the stuff too. “But often I’d be the only one at the party not doing [drugs],” he says. “People didn’t like it that I wasn’t taking part. It’s like peer pressure, people trying to suck you into something that you don’t want to do. “He has smoked pot, he says, but adds that his true vice is cigarettes. “I’ve been smoking since I was 17,” he says, “smoking 48 years.””Have you tried to give it up?” “Every 20 minutes,” he laughs. “Other than that, I only drink spirits [vodka] and wine at dinner.” He loves his smoked salmon appetizer. “Scandinavian,” he says. “It’s bugging me. I wish I could think of who you look like.” Wyman, 66, tells me that since leaving the Stones, he has married again and has three young daughters: Jessica, 6, Kate, 8, and Matilda, 4. “My wife, Suzanne, is fantastic,” he tells me. “She never looks at the negative side and she taught me to show my emotions. Before her, I could never say ‘I love you’ to anyone — that’s from my working-class background, you know. Men don’t cry.” Wyman also has a son, “from the 60s — he was eight months old when I joined the Stones.” Stephen, who just turned 40, runs his famous Dad’s Web site. Wyman, who still lives in his birthplace, London, England, is blunt when he tells me he is not a fan of the United States. “I’ve never had the desire to live in America. I’ve never liked the lifestyle — it’s too wild and speedy for me. Most people are happy being where their roots are, and my roots are London.” “Are you a monarchist?” I want to know. Wyman seems surprised by the question. “Yeah, I guess I am. I knew Princess Di. She used to bring her sons to my restaurant [Sticky Fingers]. She knew that we would never call the press, she was safe there. I knew Dodi Fayed as well. He was so sweet, quiet and shy”. Wyman says the restaurant is going strong and has three times been voted top spot for the best burger in London. I decide now’s not the time to bring up the subject of mad cow disease. Wyman says his grandmother, who raised him during the war, was the most important influence on his life. “My grandma taught me everything. We were very poor, but … she’s the one who got me into collecting things. I was enlisted in the air force when she died, and I didn’t go through the mourning thing — it got suppressed. And when my dad died [in 1990], I was on tour with the Stones in Japan. Every show brought in 54,000 fans and we were in the third show of 10, so I waited until the tour was over, and then I came home for the funeral.” Wyman says he went into therapy in 1992 to help him express his feelings. “You don’t realize how much gets bottled up,” he says. I ask Wyman if he gets along with his former band members. “What do you mean?” he says, miffed by the question. “Of course we get along. They’re my mates. I see them a lot, except for Keith [Richards] since he lives in America [Connecticut]. They’re my family. I know who you look like,” Wyman says triumphantly, “you look like Wendy.” Wendy? Some exotic young thing from his past, I hope. “Doesn’t she look like Wendy?” he yells to his book co-author, Richard Havers, who is sitting with publicity people at the next table. “Who’s Wendy?” I want to know. “She’s my cook,” Wyman says. “Your cook?” I complain. “I look like your cook.” “She’s great,” says Wyman, catching my disappointment.” How old is she?” “21,” says Richard. “29,” says one of the publicity guys, laughing. “In her thirties,” says Wyman, edging closer to what I’m sure is the truth. I stop him there. Wyman, who is thrilled with his age and stage in life, sums things up this way: “You’ve got to be in control, you can’t leave anything to chance,” he says. “Whatever you do, you must always hand in the ‘finished’ material. If you don’t, ‘they’ f— it up. Finish this line, Sharon,” he tells me, “If you want it done properly…” by Sharon Dunn

 A bit of country in the big city

From the Sharon Dunn

A bit of country in the big city Curly-haired horses, odd veggies and cowboys for all to see

[Photo: Peter Redman, National Post] MORE ENTERTAINING THAN VEGETABLES: A competitor tries his luck in the calf-roping event during the rodeo show.[TORONTO, ON] I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s me, but what is going on at the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair? First I go through a room with big vegetables — huge pumpkins, prize-winning carrots and other delights that I can’t even identify, and don’t want to. I try to get enthused, but frankly, edible agricultural products just don’t excite me, even big ones.Then I move on to the sheep room, where various piles of fleece are displayed, looking just like the lint from my dryer, only bigger. Some have ribbons on them, meaning they won, some don’t. It must have been fun judging these. Maybe if the fleece was in the form of a coat it could get a rise out of me, but not in this condition. There’s the popular rabbit room, with dozens of bunnies sitting in cages. Why are there so many, I wonder? Probably started the day with just two… I’m told there’s great food, so I wander over to an area that consists mainly of mall-type fast-food concessions — Chinese, pizza and the like. There is a fancy restaurant set up under a tent, with prices that would make a cowboy blush. When I walk by, all of the seats are empty. Cowboys have to win a lot of rodeos to be able to afford this place.There are lots of booths, but I can’t even get a fudge sample, “You have to buy,” I’m told. Why, that’s downright unneighbourly, especially if you don’t have a media pass and have to pay the $20 adult door fee ($15 for children).They’re selling everything here, like a giant flea market, from knick-knacks to music to vases. The only thing I got excited about was the National Post subscription booth. I’m not just saying this because I work here, they’re giving away black horsy-type blankets with every three-month subscription! I take out three subscriptions — for my lawyer, my mother and my sister, and they give me a fourth blanket by mistake. Of course, I keep it. Next I end up in the Cavalcade of Horses, where competitions are in full swing. A guy is riding around the arena holding a tray with a Champagne flute teetering atop (is he a waiter or a horseman?). But horses are the reason I’ve come here. I have brought my son Luke, who has allergies, to check out the so-called hypoallergenic horse, a Bashkir Curly, which has been bred to bring hope to horse-loving allergy sufferers. Bashkir Curlies have been around for a while: Napoleon, when he conquered Austria in 1805, found what he described as “poodle-hair horses” at the Vienna Zoo and had them transported back to France.”It’s been a pretty exciting week,” says owner Sonja Oakes of Sir Charles, the curly-haired horse she has brought to the fair. “A lot of people are coming to touch, feel, smell. They want to see if they’re going to have an allergic reaction to him.” And no one has, says Oakes proudly. [Photo: Peter Redman, National Post] Sonja Oakes shows off Sir Charles, a Bashkir Curly horse. “We’ve had people from all over the world come to our farm [outside of Guelph] who are so allergic to horses they want a map to the hospital before they come. They arrive with their medical kit, (including an epi-pen for severe allergic reactions) and a change of clothes. The worst we’ve had is a runny nose.””How are you feeling?” I ask Luke.”Fine,” he says, “no allergies.” I, however, sneeze, and my nose starts to run, I can’t blame the curly, what with the hay and other horses and who knows what else in the air. Oakes says.Sonja and her husband, Greg, have the biggest collection of curlies in the country, with 45 of them on their ranch. I run into a cowboy named Richard Thompson who runs Horsemanship Clinics: “It’s the humans who need the training, not the horses,” he says. At the clinic he teaches people how to communicate and bond with their horse, and how to break bad habits.”When a horse nuzzles, you think it’s because he likes you,” says Thompson, but this isn’t so. “It’s because he’s a prey animal, and he knows if there’s danger he can knock you down and get away. He’s using you as a human shield.” The most important part of the Royal Winter Fair, I’m told, is the invaluable connections and friendships that are forged for future livestock sales. But it turns out the Royal is not the biggest agricultural fair in the country. Regina holds that distinction, mainly because it’s rural and Toronto isn’t. But some of us in the big city have an obvious great interest in vegetables and sheep fleece and hens and rabbits and rodeos and hogs, and everything country. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but you must admit it is a stretch in the big city. by Sharon Dunn

“This Judy thing is everywhere”

From the Sharon Dunn

“This Judy thing is everywhere” Sid Luft, 87, is still obsessed by his former wife, Judy Garland

[Photo: Sharon Dunn, National Post] Sid Luft and his wife, Camille, at The Ivy restaurant in Beverly Hills, frequented by stars and nasty birds.[BEVERLY HILLS, CA] The Ivy restaurant in Beverly Hills is a favourite haunt of Hollywood stars. This particular day, Billy Dee Williams is at the next table and Jane Adams of Frasier fame (she’s Mel, Niles’ second wife) is at the table behind me. “I saw you on Frasier,” I hear Billy Dee tell her excitedly. Across the street, J. Lo is shooting her music video with boyfriend Ben Affleck in tow. But my lunch date isn’t new Hollywood. He is as old Hollywood as you can get. I am meeting Sid Luft, the former husband of the late Judy Garland, father of Lorna, and a Hollywood legend himself, having produced Garland’s hit movie ‘A Star Is Born’, still on the list of the top 100 movies of all time. Sid just turned 87. When he walks, he walks stiffly, and when he drives, it’s a 25-year-old brown Mercedes Benz. “I’m taking it with me when I go,” he insists gruffly, “wherever the hell that will be.” Luft isn’t the most popular guy in Hollywood these days — there’s a rumour that he tried to sell Judy’s Academy Award, a definite no-no in this town. It’s a rumour he denies. Wife Camille is with him. “This Judy thing is everywhere,” she complains. “You can’t get away from it.” I’ve got to admit she’s right. During my stay in Hollywood, I see Judy’s image on every street corner. Garland is Hollywood ,and Sid, like Judy’s fans, never did let go. “How could you?” he says. “She’s larger than life, she envelopes me.” Even now, Luft is hanging on to Judy for dear life. “I’ve been working on a project,” he tells me. “It’s called the Judy Garland Event.” Luft has painstakingly restored a 100-minute, two-act presentation featuring Garland and powerhouse duets with daughter Liza Minnelli, Barbra Streisand, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett and other classic stars. The event will showcase rare, recently discovered performances in high-definition digital projection. In the show, Luft focuses on what he calls the “triumphs” of his years with Garland: “Carnegie Hall, The Chicago Opera House, San Francisco’s Curran Theatre, Toronto’s O’Keefe Centre and Radio City Music Hall.” Luft, who was profiled positively in estranged daughter Lorna’s best-selling book and resulting screenplay Me and My Shadows, says, “This show will blow you away … but I need the right guy to produce it.” The right guy, he tells me, is none other than Canadian legend Norman Jewison. Jewison did some of Judy’s best television shows, Luft adds. “He’s the one who should be directing this series. But I don’t know how to get to him.” While Sid considers this dilemma, another more acute problem develops during an otherwise pleasant lunch — a persistent bird insists on dumping all over our table, and us. I’ve never seen anything quite like it really. Doesn’t the winged terror know this is a very exclusive, expensive place? Why isn’t he wreaking havoc on some stinking fishermen’s wharf somewhere? I mean, really! A hastily raised umbrella does little to discourage the combative bird, who insists on coming at us from all sides. After a well-directed missile hits a bull’s eye on my latte, that’s it, we get up to leave — to the tune of US$250 (remember, this is only a lunch). Obviously, no money off for bird dung and, to add insult to injury, the establishment has the nerve to charge for my tainted latte. Although I’m not paying (the Lufts insist), I complain so loudly that even Billy Dee is looking uncomfortable. “I’m on to something with this show,” Sid tells me, completely unfazed by the bird poo. The bird swoops and hits Luft’s jacket. “Big deal,” he says, not bothering to wipe it. People must get used to taking crap in Hollywood, I think. Focused on Judy and his project, Sid says, “Just wait and see how big this will be. As Frank Sinatra said shortly before his death, ‘The rest of us will all be forgotten — except Judy.’ ” With that final thought, Luft hobbles to the car, the bird crap clearly visible on his sleeve. by Sharon Dunn

Never tell him how many men you’ve slept with

From the Sharon Dunn

Never tell him how many men you’ve slept with It’s still all about finding a man, says Helen Gurley Brown

[Photo: Glenn Lowson, National Post] Helen Gurley Brown, 80, is the editor-in-chief of Cosmopolitan International. Helen Gurley Brown is looking good. She’s wearing a Chanel-look fuchsia suit with black fishnet stockings and reams of gold jewellery. “Most of it is just cheap,” she says.”No it’s not,” I correct her, noticing at least two Chanel bangles and a Cartier or two.”OK, so they’re not all cheap,” says the 80-year-old glamour girl, who is eyeing my attire. “I want your boots,” Gurley Brown tells me, referring to my knee-high snake-look tan footwear. “Where did you get them?” On closer inspection she complains, “The heel’s not high enough.”Not high enough? “It’s at least three inches,” I tell her. She shrugs.”It’s OK to love clothes and jewellery,” she says, defending herself. “It doesn’t mean you are a bad person. You can still be a meaningful member of the human race.”Gurley Brown is rail thin and confides that she always has been. “But when I turned 40,” she says, “I started doing old-fashioned calisthenics for one and a half hours every day, and I’m still doing them.”In spite of her 100-pound frame she says, “I never met a dessert I didn’t like.” If she was eating now, “I’d start with calamari, and then I’d have crab cakes and creamed spinach, without the cream. But sometimes, I not only skip desserts, I skip meals.” Today she’s skipping. So much for lunch, but fasting won’t hurt me either.I grew up on Helen Gurley Brown. As a young woman, I was devoted to Cosmopolitan, a magazine she still has a hand in running. (She is editor-in-chief of Cosmopolitan International.) I ask her about the U.S. Cosmo that she no longer runs, and that I no longer buy.”It’s different than it used to be. When I had it, we did one major article on sex, one article on man/woman relationships, one on career and one on health. The new Cosmo deals mainly with men/women relationships and sex,” she says. “But it works. People are buying it — it’s No. 1 among college girls.” And even though it’s not the same magazine she edited for 32 years, “the idea is the same — to help the reader improve her life, solve problems and find a man.”Find a man? I’m shocked. “Is the object of the game still to find a man?”She nods. “Cosmo gives hope and inspiration to help you get out there.”To prove her point, Gurley Brown tells me the publishers want to do a reprint of her ’60s bestseller, Sex and the Single Girl.”But I’ll be writing a chapter on how things have changed,” she admits. “When I wrote the book, the reigning philosophy was that if you were single, female and 30, you might as well throw yourself over the Grand Canyon. And if you were single, female and having sex, it was really over.”My feeling,” says Gurley Brown, “is have sex and enjoy it — marriage, you can always get, there’s no raging race to get married.”She says she’s also noticing that “men are handling ‘that kind of woman’ better.” That’s because “they don’t have any choice”, she says, but it’s also because, according to her, 1. the independent woman is bringing in a lot more money; 2. the man’s friends and associates are impressed with her success; and 3. the woman is still doing most of the other “stuff”, like sending the Christmas cards, organizing the social calendar and managing the housework.”We hope that in another lifetime, men will become our domestic equals,” she says sarcastically, “but it hasn’t happened yet.”Gurley Brown is married to well-known movie producer 88- year-old David Brown (Jaws, Chocolat, Angela’s Ashes), who was in town recently for a conference sponsored by the Ontario Media Development Corporation and The Royal Ontario Museum. “I was involved with a couple of womanizers when I was in my 20s, one an accomplished Don Juan,” says Gurley Brown, who was 37 when she wed. “I want to point out Don Juans wouldn’t have so much luck with women if they weren’t good at ‘something’, if you know what I mean.”You can’t help it. You always go back [to that type]. When David came along, I was 37 and I thought, ‘This is an honourable guy, he won’t lie, cheat, or steal, and he’s good in bed.’ ” But he didn’t want to marry her, she confides. “He’d been married twice before.”What did she do? “I used emotional blackmail,” she tells me. “I told him, ‘I love you, I’ll miss you, but you have to disappear because I want to get married.'”I’d been single long enough,” she says. “Two weeks later he called. They always call after two weeks,” she informs me. (She’s right.) “When he called I said, ‘Do you want to get married?’, and he said, ‘We need to talk’. I told him, ‘We’ve already talked.’ And I wouldn’t see him.”He came back after six weeks. “He wanted to come over and go to bed, as usual with men,” she says, “but we set a date.” Even then, says Gurley Brown, her soon-to-be husband was still balking.”David said, ‘I’m a good guy, I’m not cheap, we get along great, so why do you want to get married?’ ” More proof, we agree, that men have to be dragged down the aisle kicking and screaming.Gurley Brown tells me that she’s been a good wife (43 years and counting). “I think it’s because I had all my affairs before I got married.” “If your husband had had an affair, would you have left him?” I ask.”I wouldn’t have left him, I would have killed him,” she says. “I could never have gone through what I went through with the Don Juan all over again. I couldn’t face it. I would have had to divorce him.” But she recognizes the contradiction. “In my book, Sex and the Single Girl, I advise single women to sleep with married men,” she tells me, “for the experience.”This non-apologetic ’60s icon says her best advice to women is “Never tell your guy how many men you’ve slept with.” She gets her point across in a poem she’s made up. Here it is:”How many men before me, he’ll ask?Trying to tell, is quite a taskThe 5th Amendment, he’s not buying,If you say ‘none,’ he’ll know you’re lyingSo throw him a number, with charm and graceSo that you can take your placeSomewhere between slut and virginityThe number you should throw is…three.”So three it is. “I never talk about my past to my husband,” Gurley Brown says, “except one old boyfriend of mine from Zurich, who, even after I married, sent me a 12-pound box of chocolates every Christmas.”He died a few years ago,” she says, sighing. “We miss the chocolate.” by Sharon Dunn

“I’m not going. I’m eating my ribs”

From the Sharon Dunn

“I’m not going. I’m eating my ribs” Johnnie Cochran agrees to interview, but only after being promised favourite lunch: Advocate, celebrity talks law and the NFL over lunch

[Photo: Glenn Lowson, National Post] Johnnie Cochran chows down on a plate of ribs at CTV’s Toronto offices yesterday. He agreed to give an interview to National Post columnist Sharon Dunn if he was furnished with the meal. “These are very good,” he observed.[TORONTO, ON] The way to a man’s heart is still through his stomach.Best known for his defence of O.J. Simpson, Johnnie Cochran — who has also represented such high profile names as Michael Jackson, Puff Daddy and Aretha Franklin — has taken on groundbreaking cases in race relations. I met Mr. Cochran for lunch yesterday in the Green Room of CTV’s The Mike Bullard Show where he was taping a segment for TSN’s Off The Record.Lunch was difficult to arrange because of the famous lawyer’s extremely tight schedule, until I mentioned to his public relations people that I would deliver the best ribs in town (ribs are Mr. Cochran’s favourite food) if he would have lunch with me.Mr. Cochran agreed to the deal, and although lunch was slated for 12:30 p.m., he didn’t show until 1:30. “Sorry about that,” he said, “I was spending some time with Geronimo Pratt [now Geronimo Jijaga], one of my favourite clients who defines me better than anyone.”Mr. Pratt was a member of the Black Panther Party and was convicted of the 1970 murder of a young teacher. “Pratt was locked up for 27 years,” said Mr. Cochran. “It took three decades to prove that he was innocent.”Sitting down to his feast — smoked back ribs — Mr. Cochran said: “This is awfully sweet.”Staff from Dipamo’s Barbeque have personally delivered the food, wanting to meet Mr. Cochran. “I love the guy,” whispers Chris Fisher, Dipamo’s manager. “Some people get offended when I say that, because of O.J. Simpson, but here’s a guy who legally, with confidence and determination, handled the law over a period of time to find a man not guilty.”After a quick taste of his ribs, Mr. Cochran declares them “delicious.” [Photo: Glenn Lowson, National Post] U.S. defence attorney Johnnie Cochran, best known for defending O.J. Simpson, enjoys takeout ribs, the condition he set in granting the Post’s Sharon Dunn an interview. He said in Toronto yesterday he has joined the fight to liberate Bill Sampson, sentenced to death in Saudi Arabia. “These are very good, someone knew what they were doing,” he says between mouthfuls. Mr. Cochran speaks with extreme speed.”How do you do that,” I ask, “– eat and talk?””It’s good, and I’m hungry,” he replies, telling me to go ahead with my questions.”There are those who find it ironic that you’re involved with the Association in Defence of the Wrongly Accused,” I say, “and yet, you had O.J. Simpson, a man guilty in the eyes of many, acquitted.””Everyone’s entitled to his own opinion,” says Mr. Cochran, “but the jury found him not guilty. This is the way the justice system works, and I hope that people believe in that system.”I rephrase the question: “Would you represent a guilty man?””Only from the standpoint that he would plead guilty,” he says. “O.J. proclaimed his innocence to us throughout.” Mr. Cochran says his assessment of O.J. is based not only on O.J.’s plea of innocence, but on the evidence itself. “Remember, the jury was sequestered for a full year,” he adds.One of Mr. Cochran’s aides interjects: “We have to go.””I’m not going, I’m eating my ribs,” Mr. Cochran says kindly, but stubbornly. His handlers don’t have a chance: Mr. Cochran is not going anywhere.Instead, he launches into a passionate defence of the wrongly accused.”There are many individuals who have been freed and are off death row, due to DNA. It’s so important in Canada and the U.S. for us to stick together because there is injustice everywhere.”Besides getting involved in the Bill Sampson case, he tells me that he’s working on a big case over the next year. “It’s a toxic tort case involving a company … that makes all kinds of products, even turf in football fields,” he tells me. “Just about everyone in this town, Anniston, Alabama, is sick,” says Mr. Cochran. “I’m representing 14,000 people, most of whom are dying from cancer, caused by PCBs in the air and water.”Mr. Cochran is also passionate when he talks about the NFL and the lack of black coaches, another case he has adopted. “Seventy per cent of the NFL is made up of black players,” says Mr. Cochran, “but of 500 coaches, there have only been six black coaches.””We really have to go,” says an irate publicity person.”I want to finish my ribs,” Mr. Cochran says as he continues to eat.”Sharon, could you just carry them, and come along,” said the aide. She’s not kidding — I can see there is no way to separate Mr. Cochran from those ribs.”I’ll take them to your car,” I tell him. by Sharon Dunn

Hitting close to home

From the Sharon Dunn

Hitting close to home A rash of robberies, including my house, has citizens on alert

[Photo: Yvonne Berg, National Post] Constable Joanna Theriault once watched a thief try to break into her own house while she was on plainclothes duty. My home was broken into recently while I was out of town. It happened around 6 a.m., according to my early-to-rise neighbour, who was out for a morning jog. He saw a red compact pull up to my house and a young man get out. They greeted each other, and my neighbour went on his way. A few minutes later, the police were swarming my place, after the alarm did what it was supposed to do. “He was a friendly robber,” said my neighbour, consolingly. The area where I live — Bayview and York Mills — is being taken over by burglars. One woman on my street told me robbers broke in to her house, ignored the alarm, ran to her bedroom closet, stole her jewellery and were gone by the time the police arrived. Really? magine keeping your jewellery in the bedroom. I thought everyone kept their baubles in the fridge, which shows what a lousy crook I’d make. “Break and enters are becoming quite common,” says Constable Joanna Theriault, a crime prevention officer at 33 Division. “We’re very concerned about the increase in these occurrences. The robbers aren’t harming people, just looting, and most of the break-ins are surprisingly, during daytime. “I’m spooked”, I tell her. I sleep with my hammer in one hand and my cellphone in the other. Of course, as Theriault points out, “If you have the latest security system, a message goes straight to the police if your phone line is cut.” She says it’s not just my neighbourhood either. It’s happening everywhere, though the northern reaches of Toronto, but south of Hwy. 401, seems to be particularly vulnerable. And no one seems immune.”Once, when I was working plainclothes, we were following a suspect. We watched from the car as he made his way suspiciously through a neighbourhood. He ended up walking to the street that I live on. I watched as he went through the backyards and ended up at my house. He tried to break in. I couldn’t believe it. “Fortunately, he wasn’t able to break in because Theriault had her windows nailed shut (don’t ask, she’s a police officer, remember) Officers I’ve spoken with have all sorts of tales to tell. Recently, for example, some hoods tried to break into a local convenience store. They took great pains to throw large garbage cans through the upper part of a plate-glass window, then gingerly hoisted themselves up and dove through the broken glass. The store was open, and by the time they landed inside, the clerk had long since called the police and they were immediately apprehended. Others are wilier. Police showed up at one house, confident they were in time to nab a repeat offender. Since they considered him a pro they called in the big guns — the swat team. The officers went through the house, guns in hand, but it appeared the robber had alluded them. I was told the officer in charge of the investigation sat down in the kitchen, discouraged, head in hands. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a suitcase in the hallway move. Upon further investigation, he found the culprit, a modern-day Houdini hidden inside. The officer sent home for his videocamera and asked the crook if he would mind getting in and out of the suitcase a few times so he could record it. “Otherwise no one at the station will believe me,” he said. The crook was more than happy to oblige. In another case, a burglar was found hiding behind drywall, and was equally proud of his ingenuity. Constable Theriault says that if you want to give your friendly neighbourhood robbers a run for your money there are a few things you can do. First, be suspicious of anyone carrying anything of value from a neighbour’s home. “But surely that’s obvious”, I say. “You’d be surprised,” she tells me, “People don’t report.” Also, she says, “be on the lookout for anyone looking into neighbour’s windows, people climbing over fences or strangers driving slowly through a neighbourhood following an aimless or repetitive course. “Second, don’t answer the door. Be especially suspicious of anyone who comes to your door saying they’re looking for a friend who supposedly lives there, which is a common ruse. If a stranger knocks, yell through the door that you’re home but can’t come to the door.” The bad guys might be knocking just to see if the house is empty,” she says. Third, check out people who are loitering or seem out of place. Remember, culprits aren’t just youngsters. Remember, too, that burglars are creatures of habit and sometimes go back to a house they’ve robbed and break the same back window. “The bottom line is people are seeing things and they’re not calling us,” she says. “Call us if you see anything suspicious.” If you hear someone break into your home and you can’t get out safely, hide in a closet. If you’re fortunate enough to have your cellphone, call 911. Remember that your home phone line might get cut. And whatever you do, “Don’t be a hero. Do not confront.” “No fear of that,” I assure her. So the crooks don’t want to hurt us, but what about the family I heard about whose recent break-in netted the bad guys about $200,000 worth of merchandise. They took just about everything — cash, jewellery, credit cards, televisions, VCRs, computers, car keys and the car itself.” And they’re carrying the stuff out the door in broad daylight,” according to Theriault. A case in point, she says, is the witness who told the police he saw a man carrying a TV set. “I did think it was a little suspicious,” he said later. But he did nothing. I remember a similar case, years ago, when I worked at the CBC studios on Jarvis Street. A group of men came in and carried away the grand piano in Studio 7. No one questioned them. “They looked like they knew what they were doing,” said one witness. The policewoman has one more piece of advice. “If all else fails, get a dog. Dogs are unpredictable, even small dogs,” and thieves go to lengths to avoid them. “I’ve never attended a B&E when there was a dog in the house.” The officer ends by saying, “People find it devastating after they’ve been broken into, especially older people, who can’t sleep after a B&E.” So here I am back in bed with my hammer, my cellphone and Fido, er, Fido, where are you? by Sharon Dunn