A madcap romp. A caviar dispatch. A nuisance in the lobby. Sophisticated boom-boom. A cult and occult favorite. Falbalas et Fanfreluches. In Technicolor. With special guest appearances by an illustrious cat. Or an over-privileged and under-boundaried person's quest for fame and the assuaging of her own ego. Read past editions here.
Recently, I got a phone call from Accountant. This phone call was about paying my taxes. For some reason, I seem to get these phone calls a lot— I think they’re Accountant’s way of keeping me humble. “Didn’t we just have a conversation about taxes in December? Isn’t that what led to me getting a job, for one whole day, at Bergdorf’s?” I asked Accountant. He told me this call was about Tax Day coming up. Apparently, Tax Day is something that happens every year. It is the day one is supposed to pay their taxes.
I believe that it’s important to support our public services and infrastructure—after all, when more people ride the subway, it makes it easier for me to get a taxi. I am happy to pay my taxes; I just never remember to actually do it.
I went to see Accountant at this office so we could, “Get this dealt with once and for all. Don’t you know I have other clients.” For the record, no, I do not know that. When I see Money Manger, he usually takes me to lunch and tells me to choose whichever restaurant I want. I like to go someplace where famous people can be seen because I think this will help Money Manager to better understand me. Money Manger likes to go someplace where he can order lobster. But Accountant makes me go to his office, which is very beige and doesn’t have table service, and I wonder if this is one of the reasons Accountant and I don’t understand each other better.
Things got off to a bad start because Accountant did not like that I showed up late. But I told Accountant that in preparation for my upcoming fame, I was trying to spend half the week on Los Angeles time and half the week on New York time, so, really, it was only 6:23am and I was early.
Accountant said we should start with my income because, “that wouldn’t take long.” He asked if I was still in the same career, although he seemed to trip over the word ‘career.’ I said yes, I was still in the same career I had been in since I was three-years-old because I have real stick-to-it-ness. “So you’re still a ‘very, very important star of stage, screen, and vaudeville’?” asked Accountant. I nodded. “In that case, let’s just skip over income from work” said Accountant. Accountant sighed and continued, “Let’s talk about your investments.” I told him that this year I have decided to really invest in myself.
I presented Accountant with a list of my expenses for the ways I have been investing in myself: my tap classes; the cancelation fees for my tap classes; my voice lessons; the cancelation fees for my voice lessons; my ukulele lessons; purchasing a ukulele; purchasing a second ukulele; purchasing antique grapefruit spoons (I have decided to eat more grapefruit).
As Liza Minnelli’s first husband sang, “Leave Greta Garbo alone. Be a movie star on your own.” That’s not only my motto for the year, but also the title of my one-woman cabaret-variety show.
“I didn’t hear about your show,” said Accountant. I told Accountant that, unfortunately, despite the title taking up multiple marquees, many people did not hear about As Liza Minnelli’s First Husband Sang, “Leave Greta Garbo Alone. Be a Movie Star on Your Own.” And even fewer people saw it.
Accountant said, “so that’s a loss then?” “I nodded and Accountant wrote a dollar amount on his form, but I told him, “You know, I don’t think you can put a price on humanity.” Accountant sighed (again) and that’s when I realized he meant a loss financially.
I figured I might as well continue telling Accountant about my business expenses. He said we’d see if there was anything that could be a deduction. I said I thought there would be since, professionally, people were always trying to write me off.
Accountant wanted to remind me that all of my business ventures had to be rooted in reality. I said that I chose to see reality as merely being a suggestion, like stopping for red lights.
“So what are your other business expenses?” Accountant asked.
“Silk sheets and a gilded bedtray.”
Accountant looked confused, so I clarified that it’s because I like to work reclined in bed. “Well, that should have been obvious,” said Accountant. Yes, it should have.
I gave Accountant my pile of receipts for my clothing purchases from Bergdorf’s. “Now, how are these business expenses?” Accountant asked. I told him: it’s all material.
Next, we had to deal with my legal fees.
Then Accountant asked me about property taxes, but I told him I was pretty sure I only had to pay those if a studio optioned one of them. This seemed to be a real point of frustration for Accountant and I told him it was very frustrating for me too, as it’s hard to be a movie star without a movie. Then Accountant started looking a little green around the gills, as the expression goes, and I think Accountant was experiencing real empathy, which as Audrey Hepburn explained to Fred Astaire in the movie Funny Face, is when you really put yourself in someone else’s place.
However, shortly after that Accountant offended me when he assumed I was going to try and claim my cat as a dependent. I wasn’t going to try—I was going to succeed. We then tallied up my yearly caviar expenses.
Next we had to go over my medical expenses. I told him the amount New Therapist cost per week. I waited for him to say anything. “Aren’t you going to say anything,” I asked. “No,” he replied.
Lastly, it was time to go over my charitable donations. I told Accountant I had plenty of charitable donations as I could frequently be found at charitable galas and, oh, the stories I had about those! Since he asked, I’d be happy to tell him one. I got out my portable spotlight (another business expense) because this is where the flashback happens. As Kay Thompson said in the movie Funny Face, “let’s give ‘em the old pizzazz!”
Picture me at the fundraiser for the Museum of Ceramic Leopards. I am in my evening cape and have set off to win the annual scavenger hunt, which is part of the fundraiser. After taking a wrong turn, I end up wandering around beneath the Brooklyn Bridge (on the Manhattan side and on land, of course) when I happen to find a forgotten man….
Accountant interrupted me and asked if I was just recounting the plot of My Man Godfrey and I said I thought we were finally bonding and he said “never mind” and could I “please get off his desk.”
I got down off Accountant’s desk and that’s when it occurred to me that this meeting was probably not going to end with Accountant and I deciding to produce a musical together.
Accountant said I should leave and he could manage things from here “just like always.”
I said okay, although I was happy to stay longer—remember, it’s only 8:37am for me, as I am on Los Angeles time this week. Accountant insisted I leave, which probably was just as well since I had a busy day ahead of me; I am working on a remount of As Liza Minnelli’s First Husband Sang, “Leave Greta Garbo Alone. Be a Movie Star on Your Own.” But I told Accountant not to worry; I’d be sure to save all of receipts.
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Special Announcement:
This week was Barbra Streisand’s birthday. This year, for Barbra’s birthday, I made a video about our similarities. I directed it and produced it myself. It was shot on location in my apartment. You may watch it here.
Footnotes:
I am almost mostly positive that Tax Day is when you’re supposed to pay your taxes. Unless you get an extension.
Liza Minnelli’s first husband was Peter Allen.
“Leave Greta Garbo alone…” are lyrics from the song “Everything Old is New Again.” This song is also used as the music for the best number in Fosse’s All That Jazz, a film that is thematically appropriate for this newsletter.
Funny Face is a 1957 musical film. Audrey Hepburn’s character works in a bookstore and she explains empathy to Fred Astaire right before she sings her first number “How Long Has This Been Going On.” One of the film’s other stars, Kay Thompson, was, among other things, Liza Minnelli’s godmother.
My Man Godfrey is a 1936 film starring Carole Lombard and William Powell and considered to be one of the seminal screwball comedies.
One of the main characters in The Producers, Leo Bloom, starts off as an accountant.
If anyone would like to invest in my one-woman cabaret-variety show, As Liza Minnelli’s First Husband Sang, “Leave Greta Garbo Alone. Be a Movie Star on Your Own,” please let me know!
