Shirley Douglas

A ’60s-style anti-war rave

 From the

Sharon Dunn
A ’60s-style anti-war rave
The hippies are still marching, but now they bring their kids

[Photo: Sharon Dunn, National Post]
Shirley Douglas, who spoke at Convocation Hall. As I approached downtown on Saturday, I was taken aback by the hordes converging on the University of Toronto following the rally at Nathan Phillips Square protesting the United States going to war with Iraq.These demonstrators weren’t young upstarts. Most were middle-aged, with children and dogs and placards, peacefully fighting the bitter cold. There were young people, too, but there was no attitude, no malice, only quiet concern. It certainly didn’t seem like my idea of a demonstration.I’m too young to have attended the protests of the ’60s, when my older cousins with long hair and beads were attending sit-ins that sounded absolutely romantic and later proved totally ineffective. Which is why I couldn’t resist going to the anti-war demonstration at Convocation Hall on Saturday — one of many held around the world.”There’s about 15,000 here,” a police officer told me, amazed. “We haven’t seen anything like this in years.”Inside Convocation Hall, I looked around for Shirley Douglas, who was listed as one of the speakers. Douglas is the daughter of Tommy Douglas (father of Canada’s health care system), and mother of Kiefer Sutherland (father of the television show, 24). She is also the former wife of actor Donald Sutherland. When she arrived, she was whisked immediately on to the stage.
[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
Anti-war protesters march along University Avenue in Toronto on Saturday.

“What a sight,” said Douglas in her speech, delivered with an extraordinarily good set of pipes. “This reminds me of two of the truly good moments of my life: The anti-war movement of the ’60s and the civil-rights movement of the ’60s.” Following her speech, I cornered her in the hall, where she seemed more than happy to talk. “Did you notice how many people are here today who were involved in the ’60s anti-war demonstrations?” she said enthusiastically. I pointed out that was before my time. “It’s the same mood,” she assured me, then continued. “I’m here as an artist, and historically artists help people.”

I asked Douglas about the ’60s and the anti-war sentiment among the young people in those days, citing actress Jane Fonda as an example. “I know Jane very well,” said Douglas, adding, “People make mistakes.” Although, when I pressed her about whether she thought Fonda had made a mistake during her anti-war raves, she simply said, “No.” Douglas said she’s been asked to speak at Harvard and UCLA. She is determined that Canada’s voice be heard: “We are not a war-mongering nation. Canada is a peace-keeping country.” And she said the anti-war movement is mobilizing. “In America today, people from the ’60s are still alive are ready to do it again. Look at the people here today, the movement is very strong.” Canada can make a difference, Douglas said, adding that it is our responsibility as the United States’ neighbour to convince George W. Bush that the move to action is wrong. I couldn’t resist asking her about her dad’s baby (public health), and I knew she wouldn’t mind because she was handing out flyers that said, “Implement Romanow NOW,” urging people to write the Prime Minister. (The online petition is at www.petitiononline.com/romanow.)”People in this country have built something rare, the public-health system. Governments have tried to put it in crisis. I hope the Premier [Ernie Eves] will understand that and stop trying to bust this system. This is a very critical two weeks,” she said, “with the premiers meeting in Ottawa. We [The Canadian Health Coalition] are saying, ‘Stop privatization in this province.’ I want the whole Romanow Report accepted,” she continued, “I look at it and say ‘if you implement this, there will be nothing else to worry about.’ “Douglas predicts that if the premiers can’t agree, “then the public won’t put up with it.”

She pointed to the U.S. health care system, which she said is close to collapse, “with 45 million people totally uninsured and 100 million underinsured.” Douglas is so passionate about her beliefs — whether fighting for her father’s health-care system or urging the United States to stay out of Iraq. She is inspiring to be around. And what is there to disagree with, I thought. She’s right on both counts. Indeed, everyone who turned out on Saturday showed good sense and passion. Then a lawyer stood up to speak. His name doesn’t matter. He opened his mouth and screamed, “The U.S. is the biggest terrorist state in the world,” I cringed. I looked to my right and saw Alexa McDonough, the retiring NDP leader. She seemed to be rolling her eyes.The speaker continued, spitting out more venom: “The U.S. is the biggest abuser in the world.”
“God, I wish he’d stop talking,” said a woman behind me. My sentiments exactly. It was a bright crowd, a peaceful crowd, not looking for extremes but a peaceful resolution. But then one lawyer…

by Sharon Dunn

Mambo Italiano

Who’s gay? Who cares?

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Who’s gay? Who cares?
The boys from Mambo Italiano refuse to answer

[Photo: Peter Redman, National Post]
Including its run in Montreal, Andreas Apergis, left, and Joseph Gallaccio have performed Mambo Italiano 110 times.

Mambo Italiano, the smash comedy set in Montreal about a gay Italian man who comes out to his parents, has opened at Toronto’s Elgin Theatre. I wanted to talk to the male leads, Andreas Apergis (Angelo) and Joseph Gallaccio (his stage boyfriend, Nino), about just how difficult it is to play a gay guy. “Are you gay?” I ask Gallaccio. (I had heard that one of the male leads was gay and one was not, so I was trying to establish which one was and which one wasn’t right off the bat). He was clearly put off. “I reserve the right to a ‘no comment’ to that question,” he sputtered. Apergis echoed his co-lead’s sentiment. Surprised at their reaction (the show’s playwright Steve Galluccio is openly gay), I asked them why they wouldn’t answer my simple question. Gallaccio had an interesting response: “Quite frankly, I’ve had that question put forth to me from members of the audience, mostly from straight Italian men who approach me once their girlfriends or wives have approached me.” When women ask the question, he said, “they want to know if I was gay, so that they could try to fix me — you know ‘straighten the boy out.’ I felt somewhat pursued.” But the Italian men who ask have a different reason: “Because I’m Italian, the big question was, ‘What’s it like, what was the kiss [in the show] like. I would say, ‘Which kiss?’ because I also kiss a woman on the stage.” The answer? There’s no difference at all, he said. “I’m an actor doing a show. It’s a job. There are certain challenges to any role.” Perhaps more relevant is that the playwright and the two stars come from traditional Mediterranean backgrounds (playwright Galluccio and Gallaccio are of Italian descent and Apergis is a Greek Canadian).

What on earth did their parents make of their latest roles?”My very Italian parents, when they came to see the show for the first time, were warned,” says Gallaccio. “But they came along with two couples of their generation. By intermission the women were enjoying themselves, but the men were very taken aback. The men looked at my father and said, ‘Ricardo, what is Joe doing?’ And my father said, ‘He’s an actor, he’s pretending. If he was playing a murderer that doesn’t mean he is a murderer.’ “I continued to press them on my original question. “Why won’t they just tell me if they’re gay? What’s the big secret?”
“We want to leave some mystery. It’s fun,” said Apergis. “Hypothetically, it’s no more difficult for a straight man to play a gay guy than it is to play Hamlet, for example. The craft can humble you at any point of the production.” In any event, he observed, “The play’s values are a lot deeper than gay values — like not being afraid to be who you are and claiming your life.” Gallaccio agrees, “although it would perhaps be of value for a gay man to play a gay role, the greater value is to understand where these people come from. And their fear to come out and be ostracized.”

Both men say that the immigrant experience is very much imprinted on their psyches. “When I came out of the closet and said that I wanted to be an actor, I think my parents wished I had said I was gay,” says Apergis. “As immigrants, they had a dream for their children. They wanted us to be more than them — a doctor, or lawyer. A sense of reciprocity is big within our culture.”Having done 110 performances of Mambo Italiano (it was held over several times in Montreal), Andreas says the interesting part of the show is the choices the gay characters make as a result of pressure from family.If your brother was gay and wanted to tell your parents, what would you advise him? I asked Apergis.”If he really wanted to do it, I would tell him to go ahead, but it’s such a big taboo in our culture. You cannot live as an outed gay in Montreal” if you live within a traditional community. Gallaccio agreed. “I don’t think you could live as an outed Italian in Toronto either,” he said. “Italians are the same everywhere. It’s an old-world mentality, but I don’t judge it.”

So the interview is winding down and I still have no idea which of these men, if either, is gay. All of which suggests that there is a thick line between acting and real life.” As an Italian, I get asked to audition for Mafia roles,” said Gallaccio during our discussion of stereotypes and appearances, “but when I arrive and don’t even look the part, I don’t get those roles. But I could do them.”
“Why do we need to label anyway,” said Apergis. “Maybe we should ask ourselves that — why does it matter whether or not we’re gay?” Good point. And although I left the interview still wondering, it was refreshing to have these two men tell me point blank their sexual choices are none of my business.

by Sharon Dunn

Sharon Gless

Cagney’s career takes a queer turn

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Cagney’s career takes a queer turn
Sharon Gless says of her role on Queer as Folk, ‘There are no small parts’

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
Sharon Gless, of Cagney & Lacey fame, just finished shooting a segment of Judging Amy with her former co-star Tyne Daly.

Remember Sharon Gless? She played Cagney to Tyne Daly’s Lacey on the hit television show of the ’80s. Her role in Cagney & Lacey got her six Emmy nominations, two Emmys and a Golden Globe. “It ran for six seasons [1982 to 1988] and at the time we were the highest-paid women on TV,” Gless tells me over lunch at the Four Seasons Hotel in Toronto. If her show was on the air these days, she says, she could ask for, and probably get, ten times the amount of money she was getting in the ’80s. Since the stars of Friends are now getting US$1,000,000 an episode, I’m concluding that Gless and Daly were making about US$100,000 an episode, not bad for almost 20 years ago. She doesn’t dispute my calculation, but she doesn’t want to talk money. Gless wants to talk about her latest TV show, the show that brought her to Canada three years ago and has her living in Toronto. The show is Queer as Folk (its third season will premiere in Canada on Showcase Monday, April 7, and on Showtime in the U.S. on Sunday, March 2). “My agent didn’t want me to do it because of the subject matter,” Gless tells me. “He said, ‘I’d never let you do that show — the part is too small and the subject matter is questionable.” Gless now has a new agent. “I told him, ‘There are no small parts.’ When people tell me, ‘This is not something for you,’ that’s exactly the reason I want to do it.”

Gless says most agents wouldn’t even return calls to Queer as Folk in the early days. “There have to be agents and actors who are chewing their nails for refusing it,” she laughs. “It’s the biggest hit that Showtime has ever had.” Gless grew up in tony Hancock Park in central L.A. “Hancock Park was good debutante breeding ground. I had fantasies of becoming a Stepford wife.” Instead, she played one in Revenge of the Stepford Wives.The family money came from her grandmother. “Every time my grandmother gave me money, I had to dance for it. I didn’t want to answer to anyone so I ran away from home.”She went to Conzaga (the Jesuit university) in Spokane, Wash., and was kicked out “for sneaking booze in, and for sneaking out on the weekends and renting a room to party.” In her defence, Gless says, “but there was no sex. No one was having sex in those days.” It was just before the hippie free love movement.

Gless, 59, has no children “and no pets.” She managed to stay single until she was 48, when she married the creator and executive producer of Cagney & Lacey, Barney Rosenzweig. “I never wanted to get married,” she says. “I’ve never seen a successful marriage, at least not one that I wanted to be in.” The success of her marriage she attributes to the fact that they live in separate towns (Rosenzweig in Miami, Gless alternating between Toronto and L.A.). “I don’t think I’m good marriage material,” she concludes. “I was single for too long. I’m a free spirit.”

Gless, who admits that her favourite thing to do is work, says of her role in Queer as Folk (as Debbie Novotny, the waitress mother of a gay man), “I never wanted to play anyone’s mother, but wait til you see this mother.” On the show, she dresses over the top and wears a red wig. She’s not recognizable from her Cagney & Lacey days, and seems self-conscious about it, but I think she looks great, with flawless skin. “When I first came to this show, the producers said, ‘Sharon, this story doesn’t star Debbie. It’s an ensemble piece.’ I didn’t know what to do with my energy. I was so used to carrying the show.”

Queer as Folk, which Gless admits is “very graphic” (she’s not kidding, I’ve seen it) and which was once described in print as making Sex and the City look “like Saturday morning cartoons,” has been a boon for Showtime. “Because of Queer as Folk, the number of subscribers to Showtime has gone through the roof,” she tells me. “But it doesn’t take courage to do this show — it’s a fabulous show. It’s so beautifully photographed. Because of the subject matter, there’s often gorgeous shading. “Despite the show’s popularity, Gless says there are still obstacles. “I find it fascinating that the Academy [of Television Arts & Sciences] doesn’t even acknowledge that we exist,” she tells me. “I think that half of Hollywood is watching Queer as Folk, but apparently they are not willing to admit it.” She adds, “Half of the audience is straight women. It was made for the gay audience, but it’s such good television, a phenomenon has occurred. My husband says it’s because women like watching men make out, just like men like watching two women make out.”

Gless just finished filming a segment of Judging Amy with former co-star Daly (it will be shown during February sweeps). “There’s such a nice chemistry between us,” says Gless. “Those six years we were on the air with Cagney & Lacey, no other woman won an Emmy [Daly won four].”We got the awards because we had writers who could write for women,” she says. “We had the best.” On the cold cold day of our lunch, Gless, who lives on Bloor Street, tells me she’d like to find more work in the Toronto area, “because I love living in this city.” This from a native Californian. Will wonders never cease!

by Sharon Dunn

Golden Globes 

Aren’t you forgetting someone, Jennifer?

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Aren’t you forgetting someone, Jennifer?
When a big star doesn’t thank her husband at an awards show, well …

[Photo: Chris Haston, NBC]
Friends star Jennifer Aniston won a Golden Globe Award Sunday night and thanked all of her co-stars, even referring to them as her family. Yet she “forgot” to even mention her husband, movie star Brad Pitt.

Quite frankly, I was shocked. When Jennifer Aniston made her acceptance speech after winning the Golden Globe for best actress in a TV musical or comedy series at Sunday night’s awards celebration, she didn’t even thank husband Brad Pitt. For shame! Poor boy was sitting at the table with all of Aniston’s ‘real’ friends (from her hit TV show, that is). Friends that she made a big fuss over in her speech, referring to each of them by name: Courteney Cox, Matthew Perry, Matt LeBlanc, David Schwimmer and Lisa Kudrow, and making a point to refer to them not only as her friends but as family.

And there sat poor old Brad Pitt, movie star, heartthrob, smiling bravely at his wife with a look of desperation that said, “Please, please mention me.” But alas, she snubbed him! Grounds for divorce? In my books, yes. Oh, she’ll say she forgot, but we all know otherwise — trouble in paradise, I would say. Ten to one, in the next few months we’ll read that the Pitt-Aniston union is on the rocks. When the partner doesn’t get thanked, you know something’s up. As far as I could see, all of the other recipients of awards on Sunday night knew enough to mention their significant others — and avoid certain wrath.

In the past, at similar awards shows, I have seen some stars go to great lengths not to mention their current love interest, at least not by name. Take Robert Redford, for example, who was given a lifetime achievement honour at last year’s Academy Awards. When he arrived at the awards, I noticed he had a woman with him. I was curious to see if he would mention her. When he made his speech, he got out of it smoothly by saying, after thanking everyone in his life, “and I would also like to thank my lady friend.” And that was it — no name, nothing. The camera took a shot of “the lady friend,” and the look on her face said it all: She was aghast. Being a compassionate sort, I immediately put myself in her shoes. If I were the lady friend of Robert Redford and had been mentioned but not really mentioned, what would I have done? Well, the prudent thing would probably have been to thank him for acknowledging me, his “lady friend,” then thank my lucky stars I was fortunate enough to be in the company of Robert Redford. But knowing me, that’s not what I would have done. What I probably would have done was refuse to speak to him for the rest of the evening, then, when we got home, rant and rave until the wee hours of the morning, or even longer. At that point, I would probably have decided to walk out, that is of course assuming I hadn’t already been thrown out.

I would have been accused of being a prima donna (not the first time), but let’s face it, not mentioning a loved one on an awards night is a serious offence. It strikes me that there should be rules to prevent these uncomfortable moments, so here are a few I’ve put together, just in time for the Oscars.
1. If you win an Academy Award, you must publicly dedicate the night to your spouse or companion if, and only if, he/she is a star in their own right, as in the case of Brad Pitt. “I owe it all to my gorgeous husband, Brad Pitt.” Even if it’s not true, Pitt is a star, and this is Hollywood.
2. If you win an Academy Award, you must at least mention your wife/husband, even if they are not a star, and you must say their name — i.e. “I’d like to thank Carol,” not just “I’d like to thank my wife.”
3. If you win an Academy Award, and you are not married but you are there with a date, you must mention the date by name, even if you just throw his/her name in with a group. It could go something like this: “I’d like to thank the grips, Tony, Jim, Bob, and Ted, and of course my friend, Gayle.” Trust me, she’ll love you for it.
4. If you do not want to mention your date, then don’t bring one. Just come on your own. Nicole Kidman does it all the time, and it doesn’t seem to hurt her a bit. And one more word of advice, at least for the women who are attending the Oscars. Don’t worry too much about your dress; it really doesn’t matter what you wear or how hard you try: You’re never going to look as good as Halle Berry anyway.

by Sharon Dunn

Lynsey Bennett

Now ex-Miss Canada

 From the

Sharon Dunn
Lynsey Bennett, now ex-Miss Canada
She lost the title, but kept the duties
Lynsey Bennett, the now ex-Miss Canada, plans to carry on with her duties despite having had her title taken away just a few short days ago. Although organizers of the pageant have replaced Ms. Bennett with Lorenza Sammarelli, first runner-up in the original contest, she’s hanging tough and says she will continue to be something of a goodwill ambassador. “I’m promoting Winterlude [Ottawa’s winter carnival], which starts next weekend. I’m also doing a fundraising event for Champagne on Ice, a charity for battered women and I’m helping Junior Achievement for the Heart Institute Telethon,” she tells me. Ms. Bennett is also launching Get Active Ottawa, a fitness program for children in the city of Ottawa, and she’s working with the Special Olympics. “I’m still Miss Ottawa,” she says with determination.

I reached Ms. Bennett at the home of her parents in Ottawa, where she is staying at this time. “I feel so sorry for my daughter,” says Marnie Bennett, adding: “I just want people to see her for the person she really is.” When Ms. Bennett comes to the phone, I ask her how she’s holding up with all the publicity. “There’s so much sympathy,” she tells me, “even walking through the streets of Ottawa, I overhear people talking about it. And my parents and friends overhear things being said, too.”
“What are they hearing?” I ask. “My friends say, basically, what they hear is that people are confused, they don’t understand what’s going on, and why the title is being taken away.” Ms. Bennett herself doesn’t know what’s going on.”They [the Miss Canada organizers] still won’t give me specifics,” she says. “They’re telling the press that I know the reason I was removed, but I don’t. I want some clarification on it,” she says. During our chat, I don’t see any sign of weeping, whimpering, or a woe-is-me attitude.

This is obviously a feisty lady who knows her own mind and will not be pushed around .When I ask what she’ll be doing next, Ms. Bennett tells me matter-of-factly, “unfortunately, the cut-off date for the winter term at Carleton University is past.” Ms. Bennett put her studies on hold for a year to reign as Miss Canada. She has only a year to complete a degree with a major in geography, minor in French. “Now I’ll be looking for a job,” she tells me. Last summer she worked for Telecom Ottawa and she is hoping to get her job back. “They’re sympathetic,” she says, adding, “I put everything on hold because I wanted to do a wonderful job as Miss Canada, that’s the whole reason I got into it. I wanted to make a difference.”

As Ms. Bennett says goodbye over the telephone, she tells me that she’s on her way to do a radio spot. “Are you going to be talking about all of this?” I ask.”Actually no, we’ll be discussing the Super Bowl,” she tells me enthusiastically. As it turns out, Ms. Bennett is a huge sports enthusiast and was co-captain of the soccer team at Carleton. I can see that in spite of what’s happened to her, she is already preparing her future. “Dealing with what I had to deal with in Nigeria [during the Miss World event in that country], gave me strength,” she says. I ask her if she regrets ever having been involved in the Miss Canada pageant. “I have no regrets,” Ms. Bennett tells me, “I’ve learned a lot; I’ve grown.”

She strikes me as strong, as well as smart, committed and determined — perfect attributes to represent any organization, wouldn’t you think? But maybe a strong woman isn’t quite what the Miss Canada organizers are looking for. I only wonder what stories Lorenza Sammarelli will have to tell down the road.

by Sharon Dunn

Suzanne Somers

“I don’t want you two to sit together”

 From the

Sharon Dunn
‘I don’t want you two to sit together’
Alan Hamel goes everywhere with Suzanne Somers. But he’s not what I expected

[Photo: Chris Bolin, National Post]
Suzanne Somers has sold four million copies of her Somersize series. “Women say that she’s changed their lives with her books,” her husband says. Suzanne Somers is already fashionably late for lunch when her book rep arrives and announces, “There will be three at your table.””Three?” I ask. “Who’s the third?””Her husband, of course,” says the rep. “He goes with her everywhere.” I raise my eyebrows. “She’s the talent,” the rep says, defensively, “and he helps her … achieve her goals.” In other words, I think, he’s running the show. Somers’ husband is one Alan Hamel, former Toronto boy, former host of ancient CBC show Razzle Dazzle and long-time partner of Suzanne Somers (34 years).Earlier in the week, when a friend heard I was meeting Somers, she complained, “That husband of hers ruined her career with Three’s Company [the long-running Seventies sitcom on ABC]. I’ve never liked Alan Thicke anyway.” OK, so she was wrong about the name, but Hamel does still get blamed for Somers’ firing from Three’s Company.Suzanne and Alan finally arrive and saunter over to meet me in their laid-back California way. “I don’t want you two to sit together,” I announce, afraid that Hamel will control the conversation. “Good,” says Suzanne as she jumps over the arm of a couch and invites me to join her. Hamel casually takes a seat across from me.”Alan is a visionary,” says Suzanne admiringly when I question their togetherness. “He sees the big picture. People think that he’s the driven one, but frankly I am. But he’s the one who makes it happen, he taught me about business.”When I mention that Hamel is still blamed for disrupting Three’s Company, Suzanne jumps to his defence. “It wasn’t Alan, it was me,” she insists. “All I wanted was to be paid equal to men on other series, like Alan Alda and Carroll O’Connor, but I struck out because they [ABC] wanted to make an example, they didn’t want women to be ‘uppity.’ Since then I’ve done a lot of things so that I wouldn’t be beholden to anyone.”She gets unwavering support in this from her husband. “After Three’s Company I wanted to sing, so Alan planned a career for me, even before he knew I could sing, she laughs. Somers went on to win Las Vegas female entertainer of the year in 1987. (Frank Sinatra took the male honour.)Her career is varied, to say the least — acting, singing, best-selling author (of six books), master salesman (Thighmaster and cosmetics), motivational speaker, and now her own line of food available on www.suzannesomers.com. How does she do it?”You have to do the work,” she tells me. “My father always told me when I was growing up, ‘You’re nothin’.’ When someone tells you you’re nothin’, you either crumble or you say, ‘I’ll show you.’ “Somers is blunt, honest and warm, and, don’t kid yourself, very, very, smart and an obvious risk taker.She’s in town to promote her latest book, Suzanne Somers’ Fast & Easy, which discusses losing weight the “Somersize way.” (Remember, these people are master marketers.) For the record, Somersize is a diet, or “a way of life,” as Hamel puts it, that includes fats and proteins, but no sugars. Keeping that in mind, I note what Somers orders for lunch: minestrone soup and a watercress salad. I order chicken curry. “Good, I can have a bite,” she says, pointing out that she’s not having the dish I ordered, “because there are too many sugars, in the rice, the mango chutney and the yogourt.” Still, her choice of lunch surprises me. Where are the fats and proteins? “I don’t want to chew meat while I’m talking,” she says, but then she leans over and cuts off half of her husband’s steak. The perfect meal, she says, is her husband’s lunch: tomato and bocconcini salad, and a generous portion of steak but no bread, and no potatoes. Well, almost no bread. Hamel is chewing on a piece, and Somers says they are relaxed about eating a bit of the forbidden foods now and then.The relationship between the couple is easy and comfortable. I like Suzanne, she’s a dynamo, but much to my surprise, I like Alan too. He’s comfortable taking a back seat to his charismatic wife (I know more than one man who could never assume that role).I ask about their success as a couple. “It’s the killer sex,” Hamel quips.”Just put down that I’m no part of any of his answers,” replies Somers.”What are the worst foods?” I ask.”White flour, white rice, yams, sweet potatoes,” Somers says quickly, “because of the sugars. They create hormonal imbalance that causes weight gain around your waist.”Parents are doing their children such a disservice by not feeding them properly. It’s time to take responsibility. If we’re getting sick at our age, imagine what’s going to happen to our kids.””She can’t walk five feet without some woman throwing her arms around her,” says Hamel proudly. “Women say that she’s changed their lives with her books.” She’s sold four million copies of her Somersize series.I ask her opinion of a vegetarian diet. “It doesn’t give you fuel or energy.””Did you ever see a vegetarian that looked healthy?” Hamel offers. “We need meat.”Somers raves about her sugar alternative called SomerSweet, a sweetener that “tastes like sugar, bakes like sugar and has no aftertaste.”Go to the room and get her some of the chocolate,” Somers instructs her husband. Hamel jumps up, happy to oblige. I really am getting to like this guy.When her husband is away, I ask Somers about her breast cancer, diagnosed 2 1/2 years ago, and the unorthodox treatments she is using. Somers says, “I had to think outside the box. I’m not advising that other women do it, but I believe in it. Chemo is against everything I believe in. It kills healthy cells as well as bad ones. My whole program is about building healthy cells. What they [the doctors] were offering me [a five-year program of tamoxifen oral chemo] was destroying all my good cells and bad cells. The doctors who recommended chemo are well meaning,” she says, “but women need to be proactive about their health.” Somers is using an all-natural alternative cancer drug called Iscador from Switzerland. “It’s been used in Europe to treat cancer since 1920, with the same success rate [as chemo],” she says.Asked about the recent reports of her liposuction, Somers says she had the procedure done on her breasts after the cancer “to even them out. Every woman wants to look good when she takes her clothes off,” she says, adding, “I had to defend my program, so I went public.” She says that there was no work done on her thighs, or any other part of her body during the procedure. I wonder about her diet and breast cancer. She pooh-poohs my suggestion of a possible link, telling me that her sister also had breast cancer (it is known to run in families), and since I also know vegetarians with breast cancer, I don’t push the point.Somers jumps up and runs off to meet our photographer in the next room for a pic. “You stay with Sharon,” she tells her husband. Curious, I ask Hamel about his upbringing in Toronto. “I was raised on Queen and Spadina,” he says. “My father worked at Tip Top Tailors on Front Street as a pocket maker, and my mother had a rooming house where boarders stayed for years. There were 17 people in the family,” he remembers. “Eight Chinese brothers (who lived in one room), a Presbyterian minister, a Trinidadian artist, a Dutch engineer, a Frenchwoman — I think she hooked on the side — and a blind alcoholic trumpet player.”Hamel and Somers now live on the beach in Malibu, one of the most expensive properties in the world, with a second home in exclusive Palm Springs. Somers is the dynamo, there’s no doubt about that, but Hamel is her rock. This is a marriage, a partnership, a business deal that appears to be working. At the very least, everyone is getting rich. And besides, they both look pretty healthy. Why it’s enough to make anyone start eating steak again. I’ll have mine medium rare.

by Sharon Dunn

Diana Yampolsky

“
Get over to the mic. You’re not leaving”

 From the

Sharon Dunn
‘Get over to the mic. You’re not leaving’
From beginner to professional singer in 10 hours? I had to try

[Photo: Kevin Van Paassen, National Post]
Singing is “as intimate as sex, that’s why people are so vulnerable.” Diana Yampolsky demonstrates vocal technique to student Jason Meloche.

“Maybe it’s not too late to be discovered,” singing teacher Diana Yampolsky tells me optimistically when we meet. I’m here because Yampolsky, whose clients include Raine Maida of Our Lady Peace and Brian Byrne of I Mother Earth, advertises that she can unleash anyone’s hidden singing talent in 10 easy hours. “People are motivated by a dream,” says Yampolsky, a music major originally from Leningrad and founder of Royans Vocal Productions. “I see totally normal business professionals who, if I advise them, are ready to leave their careers making $100,000 a year because they want to be a professional singer. “In the meantime,” she says, in her thick Russian accent, “they’re in their forties and they can’t carry a tune in a bucket.”
“I’m in my forties,” I point out. She rolls her eyes. “I had one professional man, 43. He presented to be normal, he sold his business for the sheer fact that he wanted to be a professional singer, but he couldn’t sing to save his life. I told him it would take at least 100 lessons, and even then I couldn’t guarantee a Sony contract.” Although that client never came back, Yampolsky says she always tells the truth about a student’s talent. “There are those who have a chance and those who don’t, those who can make it to be a Celine Dion or a Whitney Houston, and those who have to go a level below, who have a chance to sing for weddings and funerals, or voiceovers and karaoke. Everyone’s voice can be improved,” she says.

Yampolsky says her “accelerated artist development” is an innovative and unique approach to voice mechanics. “It’s a structural approach, a special methodology.” One of her specialties is voice repair. Even record companies — Sony, Warner Bros., BMG and Universal, among them — refer clients to her. “It is a holistic approach,” she says. “Your voice is an expression of who you are, a reflection of the state of your being. One thing I can tell without even hearing you sing,” Yampolsky tells me, “is that you are a very strong woman … with balls.” I thank her for the, er, compliment. “My claim to fame,” she says, “is beginner to professional singer in 10 hours — guaranteed.” I ask her to repeat herself. “Is my accent that bad that you can’t tell what I’m saying?” she snaps. I tell her that it is and await the consequences. She rolls her eyes again. Yampolsky decides I will sing My Heart Will Go On, Celine Dion’s hit from the movie Titanic for my voice test. “Take your boots off,” she tells me, “so that I can have a look at your instrument.”
“What instrument?” I want to know.
“Your body, you’re the instrument,” she says as I stand on my tiptoes and she looks me over.

She tells me that I’m not proportionate. “Like a Stradivarius that’s warped”, she complains. “You’re top heavy When the ‘instrument’ is out of whack, the idea is to compensate”, says Yampolsky. Then she presses the record button to videotape my performance, and I’m off. I don’t sound too bad, I think, and I look forward to watching the tape. But the sad truth comes out when she plays it back to me. As a matter of fact, it will go down as one of the defining moments of my life because now I can no longer fool myself into thinking I can sing. Here I am on tape looking and sounding like what can best be described as a horribly injured cow, caught in an extended moo. I blush furiously, and for one of the few times in recent history, I’m speechless.”Your voice is all over the place,” Yampolsky says, not unkindly. “Your problem is this,” she tells me. “You’re like an airplane trying to take off — with the airport attached. Your voice is supposed to leave your physical body. You’re committing vocal rape [strong and forceful], instead of vocal love-making [strong and gentle]. If you were a gymnast, you’d be falling off the balance beam every minute.” She insists I try again after some tips, but I lie and tell her I have to leave.

Yampolsky tells me singing is “as intimate as sex, and that’s why people are so vulnerable. “Get over to the mic,” she orders. “You’re not leaving. And don’t stand like a pregnant woman,” she barks. “If it was easy, I wouldn’t have clients flying over from Japan and Hong Kong.”
“You’re tough,” I tell her.
“That’s why I get results,” she shoots back. “You didn’t bite,” she yells as I try again to sing. “Bite, bite, bite. Suck in your air, open up your upper diaphragm, smile, and place the sound on top. Your face has good structure for singing,” she points out, adding, “You know, the big mouth. “Give me middle C.” I do as I’m told. “Perfect,” she tells me. (Apparently not everyone can hit middle C.) “I had a man come in who looked like a Russian mobster,” she says. “He really wanted to sing, but he appeared to be tone-deaf, and couldn’t hit middle C. He told me that if I taught him to sing, he would give me a gift. A bullet or a Mercedes-Benz, I’m not sure,” she quips. “He wanted to sing Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, One of the lines is “Mama just killed a man.” Although it’s been three months, her client hasn’t returned. “He told me he had to be away on business,” she confides.

We record again. I’m biting, and my hands are forming an arc over my head, as she has instructed. Once again, we sit to watch the tape. The transformation from the first tape is unbelievable. “It’s a person that can sing,” says Yampolsky. And she’s right, but it doesn’t sound like me, it’s more a young-Willie-Nelson-meets-Shirley-Temple type of sound. “I sound so young,” I tell her. “It’s your spirit coming out,” she says. “You’re young at heart. You’re 32 years old in your spirit. This is excellent,” she enthuses. “If you didn’t screw up the last part, it would be amazing. You have it, big-time,” Yampolsky announces. “Forget singing for funerals. You could be phenomenal.”

She’s finally prepared to let me leave. I’ve been with her for more than two hours, and in the meantime another student has come in. His name is Jason Meloche, and he’s a professional singer. He tells me that Yampolsky’s method has repaired his vocal cords.”Are you afraid of her?” I ask. “A little bit,” he laughs, “but my voice doesn’t get sore anymore.” Yampolsky says Christina Aguilera, Britney Spears and especially LeAnn Rimes and Kelly Clarkson, of American Idol fame could all benefit from her help. “Would you give them lessons for free?” I ask.
“No way,” she says. “They must pay four times what everyone else pays.” Whatever that is. She refuses to discuss fees with me. As I’m about to leave, I consider again what she’s told me — that I could be a great success as a singer. “Could I have a song on the radio?” I ask. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions,” she says quickly, dashing my dreams.

by Sharon Dunn

Johnny Cochrane

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